


Do You Permit It?

by lottielovebuzz



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Abusive Relationships, Adoption, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Trans, Arranged Marriage, Artist Grantaire, Balls/Dances, Bastard Grantaire, Bathing/Washing, Bottom Enjolras, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Carnival, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Comfort, Concerned Enjolras, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Cosette Fauchelevent & Grantaire Friendship, Dad Enjolras, Dad Grantaire, Demigods, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Dress Up, Drug Use, Drugs, E being adorable and keeping a flower that R gave him years ago in his book, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enjolras Is Rich, Enjolras Is The Big Spoon, Enjolras Sucks at Cooking, Enjolras is an Idiot, Enjolras' Mum and Dad, Enjolras-centric, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Essays, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fancy Dress, Father-Daughter Relationship, Festivals, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Florida, Flowers, Fluff, Food, Gaming, Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier Friendship, Grantaire Is The Little Spoon, Grantaire Snow, Grantaire is Amazing at Cooking, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Gunshot Wounds, Halloween, He Survives Though, Heroin, Historical, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, House Lannister, Hufflepuff Grantaire, Hurt Grantaire, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Long Distance Relationship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Keeping Gifts, Lannister Enjolras, M/M, Major Character Injury, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Meeting the Parents, Memories, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Minor Courfeyrac/Combeferre, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Mythology - Freeform, NSFW, Nightmares, Non-Binary Grantaire, One-Sided Enjolras/Grantaire, One-Sided Relationship, Overdosing, POV Second Person, Past Child Abuse, Pick-Up Lines, Pining, Pining Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, Reincarnation, Royalty, Sharing a Bath, Singer Grantaire, Singing, Slytherin Enjolras, Songfic, Spooning, Storms, Swallowing A Ring, The North remembers, They Win The Revolution, Top Grantaire, Topping from the Bottom, Trans Character, Transphobia, Trojan War, Unrequited Love, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Voice of Reason Combeferre, bathing together, the north - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 30,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottielovebuzz/pseuds/lottielovebuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 30 Day OTP Challenge for Enjolras x Grantaire</p><p>1. First Kiss // 2. Flowers // 3. Pick Up Lines // 4. Anniversary // 5. Love Confession // 6. Watching TV/Gaming // 7. Injury/Illness // 8. Fancy Dress/In Costume // 9. Cooking Together // 10. Arranged Marriage AU // 11. Bathing Together // 12. As Children // 13. Angst // 14. Festival/Carnival // 15. Historical AU // 16. Storms // 17. Valentine’s Day // 18. In Formal Wear // 19. Spooning // 20. One Sided/Unrequited Love // 21. Another Gender (Cis/Trans/NB etc.) // 22. Proposing // 23. Pregnancy/Adoption // 24. Fantasy/Magic // 25. In Battle // 26. Royalty AU // 27. Nightmare // 28. Singing // 29. Meeting Each Other’s Parents  // 30. NSFW</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One: First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Canon-era  
> Les Amis

Whenever Grantaire pictured their first kiss, when he _allowed_ himself to picture their first kiss that is, he always imagined it a bit more romantic. He imagined that he finally managed to pluck up the courage to admit to Enjolras just what he meant to him; the truth behind why he called him "Apollo", how he willingly did everything that Enjolras wanted of him. He imagined that Enjolras wouldn't freak out about it - which was when he was _really_ convinced he was daydreaming, because wow, why would a Greek god want someone like him? - and that he'd arrange a romantic date for them both. 

There would be flowers and dinner and candlelight, and everything would be perfect and he'd slowly lean in, gently brushing his lips against Enjolras' perfect pink and plump lips. He'd pull back and flick his gaze up to gauge E's reaction, but those beautiful blue eyes would be closed. He'd then move forward once more and press their lips together again, this time more firmly. 

He always imagined that it would never last long, but it would be enough for his heart to thump, for his face to redden with nothing at all to do with the wine he had been drinking throughout the night, just to steel his nerves, of course.

What he never guessed was _this_. 

Enjolras had just said something that made Grantaire roll his eyes so hard he seriously thought they could have fallen out of their sockets. He raised the bottle of wine to his lips and downed the remaining liquid, letting out a small hiss as it ran down his throat, before he set the bottle back on the table. 

He just couldn't help himself. 

'Apollo, you know I would follow you to the end of the earth,' Grantaire declared, speaking out loud over the small whoops and cheers from his other friends. A part of him had aways felt horrible for being this person; for being the one that brings his friends' happiness down with his pessimism and cynicism, but… he couldn't stop that. He _could_ drink to forget the horrible feeling however. 'But this is getting ridiculous.' 

Enjolras' stunning blue gaze turned to him, and Grantaire felt like he was drowning in a raging sea. He raised a blond eyebrow, signalling for Grantaire to continue. 

So Grantaire did. He can remember telling Enjolras that even though he managed to make a cynic like him _believe_ in something, he wasn't going to achieve the changes that he set out to make. There was more after that, some bits he couldn't quite remember, but he had just got to how he didn't want to see Enjolras' hopes and dreams come crashing down around him, when there was hands cupping his cheeks. 

He just managed to register Enjolras' eyes, no longer looking like a stormy sea but a placid lake, before he felt lips upon his. He was vaguely aware of cheering coming from his friends, because they'd been taking bets on this since _forever_ , but when he felt Enjolras' hand move from his cheek, to thread in his dark curls, he no longer cared about what his friends were doing. 

Instead, his hand came up to entwine through Enjolras' hair in the same likeness, kissing him back with all the love and passion he could muster. 

And when they pulled apart, Enjolras' eyes were dancing with excitement as he whispered, 'I've dreamt of doing that for the longest time.' 

Grantaire just smirked and replied, 'I imagined it rather differently, but I'm not complaining,' before he surged upwards and captured his Apollo's lips in another fierce kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	2. Day Two: Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Modern-era  
> Fluff  
> Reference to pining R

'What are you thinking about?' Enjolras' voice pulled him from his thoughts, as his finger came up and smoothed away a small crease on his forehead, before trailing it down the centre of his nose.

Grantaire's lips pulled into a grin. 'Just thinking about the time I gave everyone a single flower in order to hide the fact I just wanted to give you one.' 

Grantaire didn't give flowers. Not because he didn't think they were pretty, or that they made a bad gift, it's just flowers are so very easy to throw away, and end up _dying_ and having to get thrown out. He hated the very idea of giving something to Enjolras and then having to witness Enjolras throwing it out, but this time, he had finally came to terms with being in love with Enjolras, and he just needed to do _something_ to delude himself that his friend maybe felt something too. So, he went and bought a bouquet of flowers and gave one to all the Amis, hiding the special moment behind one of his ridiculous tricks. That way, it wouldn't be as humiliating as giving a sole flower to Enjolras would have been.

Everyone accepted them with a smile, Apollo looked just a little bit confused as he took it from Grantaire's grasp, and their fingers brushed together, and Grantaire was positive he was going to burst! He sat the flower aside anyway and continued with his speech, gathering everyone's attention the way only his Apollo could. 

Afterwards, when the meeting was finished, some of his friends forgot their flowers, some of them took them home but ended up throwing them out after a day, and Grantaire actually missed what Enjolras did with his because he spent the rest of the night daydreaming about whether or not he would be that passionate in bed, and if he would be the kind of person who would like being clung to whilst being fucked, hands in hair, tugging him this way and that. 

He had to steal Joly's jacket to leave the Musain with a little bit of dignity left that night.

That was the only time Grantaire ever gave Enjolras flowers, having decided not to give his Apollo something that could die. He didn't deserve gifts that could die. 

Recognition flooded Enjolras' eyes as he let out a small "ah", a smile flickering onto his lips. 

'That's right, the red tulip.' Enjolras mumbled and Grantaire nodded along with him, until a thought popped into his head when he realised that Enjolras actually _remembered_ the flower that he gave him. 

'How the hell did you remember that?' Grantaire questioned. He could remember the flower he gave Enjolras because hey, it was the only time he ever gave Enjolras something. After that he never bothered, never being able to come up with a valid excuse that didn't just scream "I LOVE YOU". But Enjolras? How on _earth_ did he remember the flower? Why on earth would he _want_ to? They had been together for six months already, but Enjolras had never brought that up, and Grantaire knew that Enjolras' feelings hadn't been there for as long as his own had.

Enjolras didn't say a word in reply, opting instead to slide off the bed where they were currently lying on, limbs entangled in a tight embrace, and disappeared through to the living room. Grantaire sat up with a frown on his face, resting his weight on his hands behind him. 

'Enjolras?' 

'Give me a minute.' Enjolras declared and R just pouted, but remained silent as he shifted, crossing his legs in front of him and moving his hands to rest on his thighs, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm.

When Enjolras came back, he had a book in his grasp and held it out to Grantaire expectantly. Grantaire took it from his grasp after only a moment of hesitation. He raised his eyebrow at Enjolras in questioning. 'Open it at page three-hundred-and-sixty-five.'  

Grantaire's frown deepened, but he did as he was told flicked it open to the page Enjolras told him to. When he saw what was lying in the centre of the page, his breath caught in his throat. His hand gingerly came out to stroke the browned flower, careful to keep his touch light so that the dead petals didn't crumble under his touch. 

'You kept it?' 

Tears began to sting his eyes but he blinked them back, so that when he finally raised his gaze to meet Enjolras' again, there was no evidence that he was close to crying. 

'Of course I did.' Enjolras shrugged with one shoulder, before he slid back onto the bed beside Grantaire. 'I don't know, I just couldn't bear to throw it away.'

Grantaire's fingers gently traced the petals once more, before he carefully closed the book and set it aside on the bedside table, before he pulled Enjolras down for a fierce, loving kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	3. Day Three: Pick Up Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Modern AU/Coffee shop AU  
> Minor Cosette/Marius  
> Cosette and Enjolras as siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, i am so sorry how long it took me to get another chapter out. i suck at doing things like this. i don't know why i bother!!!!

Grantaire hands the cup over to the cute blonde with a smile. 'I'm sorry about Marius, he's just… he doesn't know how to flirt and instead makes weird noises before he runs away.' 

The young woman lets out a chuckle in reply, shaking her head as she adds a sachet of sweetener to the saucer that the large mug sits on. 'No, don't worry about it. I found it rather cute.' 

She digs into her satchel bag that's slung over her shoulder and pulls out a pen and a piece of paper. She then jots something down and Grantaire watches her with a small frown. 'Tell him that talking through text may be easier at first, and if he _is_ interested… here is my number.' 

She hands Grantaire the piece of paper which has her number scrawled beneath her name; _Cosette_. 

'Oh my God, seriously? This is your real number?' Grantaire questions as he stares at Cosette with a sceptic frown on his face. He runs his free hand through his hair, ruffling his black curls as Cosette nods her head in reply. 

' _Wow,'_ Grantaire lets out a low whistle before he chuckles, vaguely aware of the bell above the door chiming, signalling that someone has entered the coffee shop. 'I never thought I'd see the day I'd be craving Marius Pontmercy's flirting techniques!' 

Cosette gives a giggle as she slips the pen back into her bag, and Grantaire pockets the piece of paper, making a note to give it to Marius later. The last thing he wants is giving it to Marius now, and having him get so freaked out he can longer function. He'd give it to him when they're shutting shop and he can then send him back to his own flat, and that way he could be his own problem.

Grantaire finally lifts his gaze away from Cosette and looks to see who had entered the Musain, finding a golden god standing over by the window, talking to two other men who had entered the shop over half an hour ago. 

'Holy shit.' He whispers softly, eyes raking over his form; his gold curls pulled into a loose side braid, his slim torso encased in a red vest and long elegant legs that seem to go on forever and are clad in dark skinny jeans. 'Now tell me, Cosette, do you think the aloof, awkward flirting would work on Apollo over there?' 

He nods his head to the man's direction and Cosette gives him a confused look, but turns nonetheless. Her eyes land on the man in question and she gives a giggle. Granatire frowns at her as his gaze flicks between the two… he has to be honest that there's something rather similar about the two blondes…

'I could introduce you if you really want to know him.' 

Grantaire's eyes snap back to the young blonde in front of him, who has a wide grin on her plump lips and a mischievous look in those blue eyes that Grantaire just doesn't trust. 

'You know him?'

'Of course I do!' She slides her hand around her cup and takes a sip of her latte macchiato. She licks her lips free of the cream and continues, 'He's my brother; my twin. So what do you say? Do you want me to go and drag him over?' 

Grantaire is shaking his head in reply before she's even finished, eyes darting back and forth between Cosette and Apollo, realising now why there was something familiar about them. _Twins_. 

'You call him Apollo and you don't want to meet him?' Cosette's frown deepens and Grantaire is instantly regretting ever bringing this up. Why didn't he just take her number for Marius and bid her good day. Fucking hell. 

'Yeah, that's who I am. I admire from afar, so there's really no need to… Cosette!' He trails off when he realises that Cosette has rolled her eyes and then marched over to her brother. She embraces him and plants a kiss on his cheek, briefly waving at his two companions and Grantaire considers running away; just turning and heading through to the back where Marius was still hiding. 

But before he can ever _consider_ that, Cosette has pointed over to him and Apollo's gaze followed her finger with a small frown on his perfect face. Grantaire's eyes widen and he just stares at Apollo for a few seconds, before he seems to remember himself and clears his throat. His lips quirk into a grin and he nods his head in introduction. 

'What can I get you, Apollo?' He calls across the coffee shop, only realising too late that he called him Apollo… out-loud… to his face. _Shit_. 

But Apollo doesn't look shocked or worried, and his eyes don't leave Grantaire's face as he replies, 'A black coffee, please.' 

He then finally turns back to his companions as Grantaire starts making him the coffee, which doesn't take long because of how simple his order is, and he half expects him to still be talking as he sets the mug on the counter. He looks up, ready to call him over, but when he does he finds Apollo already standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. 

'So, Apollo?' He prompts and Grantaire realises that he and Cosette have the same plump, pink lips. He finds he can't stop staring at them and it isn't until Apollo clears his throat that Grantaire finally realises he's supposed to reply. 

'What? Oh, right, I just… sorry about that… you work in a coffee shop and you start developing nicknames to keep track, and I tend to go by what they remind me of and you…' 

'I reminded you of the Greek god, Apollo? The god of light and the sun?' 

Grantaire gives a one-shouldered shrug. 'If it helps you weren't ever supposed to know your nickname.' 

'It doesn't really help.' Apollo declares and Grantaire swallows hard, nodding his head. He has already started forming another apology when Apollo cuts him off, talking over him, 'Because if you hadn't, I wouldn't have known you were interested. I suggest that you and I get to know each other better when Artemis is sitting watching.' 

They both turn their heads to find Cosette staring at them, occupying the seat in between her brother's two friends. When she finds them looking at her, she raises her hand and gives them a wave with her fingers, smirk pulling at her lips.

'Are you serious?' 

'I'm the god of truth and you don't believe me?' 

Apollo's lips quirk and Grantaire can't help the laugh that breaks free from his lips. 'Okay, sure, uh…' 

And just like his sister before, Apollo reaches into the satchel bag slung over his shoulder and pulls a pen and piece of paper out. He scribbles down his name and number and hands it over to Grantaire. 

'Call me.' He declares before he turns back to his sister and friends. 

Grantaire looks down at the paper and finally gets his real name - _Enjolras -_ and he bites his lips before calling out, 'I think I prefer Apollo.' 

Enjolras turns to him and chuckles. 'So do I.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	4. Day Four: Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Reincarnation AU  
> Flashbacks  
> Referenced canonical death

**_6_ ** **_ th_ ** **_June 2012._ **

The flashbacks started a few weeks ago and no matter how hard he tried, Grantaire couldn't stop them. They had started as nothing more than the odd nightmare. A flash of gold; then a golden god talking fiercely about the future of Paris; next the harsh words exchanged between someone Grantaire used to be and this golden Apollo. 

He could deal with that. He could deal with the odd nightmare that left him breathless and craving wine when he woke up… even though he had never liked the taste of wine before. 

But then yesterday all that changed. He had been walking to class one moment, then he blinked and he was at a barricade. Men were running about on either side of him, calling for wood, furniture, _anything_ to help build the barricade. 

 _See the people unite._ Someone declared and Grantaire raised a bottle to his lips and retorted, _I pray you're right._

He sauntered away and didn't hear anything else but didn't need to, for the scene around him was beginning to fade, turning to fog and blurring at the edges.

Then when he opened his eyes nurses and doctors were standing over him, checking his pulse and the monitor he was attached to. They told him that he had collapsed and hurt his head - that he had a concussion from banging it against the concrete sidewalk. 

He thought that explained everything and when the doctors finally agreed that he could leave the hospital, because it was probably just lack of sleep, he had a lot of work to do the night before for his classical art class and had pulled an all-nighter. 

The doctor told him not to do that again. _Sleep is an important part of being healthy, R._

Grantaire did a double take but the doctor was away. He closed his eyes and saw the doctor at the barricade, no longer in a white coat but in a white shirt and brown vest, with the French flag tied around his waist; he heard someone shouting for him for help, that there was an injury and they needed his help.

_Joly! Hurry, please. He's losing so much blood._

Grantaire shook his head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he exhaled loudly. He needed to get to his lecturer and tell her what happened. He couldn't stand about and think of… whatever the hell this was. 

He walked out of the hospital and made his way to his university. The professor was in her office and was willing to listen to him explain what had happened. How he had been coming to class and just blacked out, waking up in the hospital nearly forty minutes later.

'These things happen, Mr. Grantaire. I suggest you go home and rest, instead of having it happen again.' His professor declared and that's just what he did. He went home, changed out of his jeans and into his sweatpants before falling into bed with plans to forget that day's events. 

—

_There's a throbbing in your head that has you groaning as it drags you through unconsciousness. It pulses and beats until you reach up and rub the sore spot with your fingertips, before pulling away to find blood coated over them. You groan and look around yourself, breath catching in your throat when you seen your fallen friends._

_Joly. Bossuet. Jehan. Courf. Bahorel. Feuilly. Combeferre._

_They're all lying there in pools of blood and you wonder how long you have been out; has it been mere minutes or hours or even days? You do not know._

_But as you scan the fallen barricade, you cannot see him. You cannot see the reason you stayed and participated in this doomed revolution._ **_Apollo_ ** _._

_You hesitantly stand on weakened and frail legs and stumble forwards. You pass your friends and leave them lying, knowing in your heart and soul that they are gone and you can do nothing about it._

_You hear a commotion from inside the Musain and you make your way towards it, stumbling inside and climbing the stairs to find Enjolras standing there at the window, an army of soldiers facing him with pointed guns. He holds the revolution's flag in his bloody hand and you no longer see the god you have worshipped for so long; you see a young man with ideas that he'll never see come true._

_You push your way through the throng of soldiers and just when you reach Enjolras, you stop and give him a smile. 'Enjolras,' you sigh his name, 'do you permit it?'_

_He doesn't say anything but steps forward and takes your hand in his, sliding elegant fingers that you've sketched a million times over through your own._

_You both turn back to the army and stand your ground as they open fire-_

Grantaire lets out a shout and his hands fly for his chest, expecting to find it ripped open by bullets but instead it's still solid and firm. He raises a shaking hand to run through his curls that are damp and clinging to his face and neck. 

'Enjolras?' He whispers to the dark and empty room, and he's not sure if he's questioning the name or calling for him. He shakes his head and slides out of bed, realising that there's no way in hell he'll get back to sleep now. 

He makes a coffee and sits down in front of his recent project, digging out his paints and turning the light down as low as he can so he doesn't wake his roommate. 

He stays like that until his alarm goes off and he moves to get ready, sliding out of the flat before his roommate wakes and heading to the nearest coffee shop. 

When he gets there, he orders his usual and as he sits to drink it he decides to head to the library afterwards, to do some research on these dreams - flashbacks? - he's been having… instead of doing his essay on Monet that's due tomorrow. 

He downs the remainder of his coffee and set a tip for the barista on the saucer before making his way out of the shop. Grantaire turns the corner that will take him on the road to the library, and all he sees is a flash of gold before someone suddenly crashes into his chest… or rather, he crashes into their chest for they're a few inches taller that him. 

'Woah, slow down there Apollo, there's no rush.' Grantaire declares as he grabs ahold of the man's arms, steadying both of them as he lets out a chuckle. It's only when the man goes still beneath him does he realise just what he had said. 

He doesn't know what else to say and finds he doesn't need to,when the blond raises his head, startling blue eyes finding Grantaire's own and he feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him. 

'It's you…' Grantaire whispers, trailing off and before he even knows it, he's reaching up and cupping his cheek. 'It's really you.' 

'Grantaire.' The man chokes out and his hands reach out and grab Grantaire's arms, fingers curling round flesh and nails digging into skin, but Grantaire doesn't care. _It's him._

'Enjolras. _Apollo_.' Grantaire breathes before he surges upwards and captures his lips in a fierce kiss, just like he should have done one-hundred-and-eighty years ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	5. Day Five: Love Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Harry Potter AU (Slytherin!E and Hufflepuff!R)  
> Background Joly/Bosuett/Musichetta

_Heard you've got another protest tonight. Does McGonagall know or are you going to surprise her again? - R._

Grantaire folds the note over before he takes his wand into his hand. He mutters a small enchantment before the paper transform into a small bird and takes flight. Grantaire watches as it flies through the crowd of the classroom and moves over to the blond god on the other side of the room. 

He realises as soon as his eyes land on Enjolras that it was a mistake even _looking_ at him, seeing as he can't turn away now. So he sits and watches as the paper bird starts to peck at Enjolras' cheek, trying to draw his attention away from his discussion with Combeferre and Courfeyrac. 

'You're making me feel sick.' A sharp voice seeps through into his mind, and he turns sharply to find Éponine staring at him sharply. 

'What?' He ducks his head, trying to ignore the fact his eyes flicker over to Enjolras once again, finding him taking the bird into his hands which then falls still and unfolds itself to reveal the note. 

'For fuck's sake, R!' He gets a harsh slap upside the back of his head, and he winces as his hand comes up to rub at the place Ponine had just slapped. 'He has got your note and he will reply. You don't need to watch every little thing he does.' 

'But every little thing he does is majestic.' R mutters under his breath, knowing full well that Éponine has heard him when she groans and her head collapses on top of her folded arms. 

He is saved from having to listen to any more of her complaints when a twittering comes at his ear, and he turns to find a paper bird fluttering beside his head. 

Grantaire reaches out and watches as the bird perches on his extended finger. He then reaches up and takes the unfolding bird into his grasp, reading Enjolras' reply, trying to ignore Éponine's lingering presence at his shoulder, reading the note along with him.

_I 'm sure that McGonagall is used to the Amis rallies and protests by now. The last time she even joined in. I take it by your questioning, you're considering coming? - E. _

'Look at that! He's asking if you're coming! He so wants you.' Éponine whispers into his ear, followed by a loud giggle that attracts the attention of Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta. 

'She teasing you about your love life again?' Chetta questions with a waggle of her eyebrows, turning around in her chair which is lodged in between her two boyfriends. Joly and Bossuet then turn, throwing their arms around Chetta with wide grins on their lips. 

'I hate you all.' R mutters as his gaze flickers back to Enjolras, who has returned his attention back to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, picking up the conversation from where they had apparently left it. 

'I don't know, R, she may be on to something.' Bossuet pipes up. 'You know what Enjolras is like. He is happy with any turnout and doesn't really question individually if someone is going to show up. He hasn't even done that with us.' 

Grantaire shakes his head. 

'He's probably just surprised that I'm even _enquiring_. You know he thinks I'm a non-believer.' 

Joly chirps, 'You aren't, really, though.' 

Grantaire finds his gaze flickering back over to Enjolras, who is still talking to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, but his actions and hand movements are getting bigger and bolder, and Grantaire knows that he's getting more and more into whatever he's talking about. And god, if that doesn't show how pathetic Grantaire is, that he can read Enjolras simply by the movement of his _hands_ , he doesn't know what does. 

He doesn't look away from Enjolras as he replies to Joly's earlier comment. 

'I believe in him.' 

Enjolras' head perks up and he turns around, his gaze flickering over to R, who's eyes widen in shock and before he even can realise how stupid it is, he whips around to face his friends who are laughing loudly at him. He knows Enjolras saw him, and he has no idea why he thought just _turning around_ would make a difference, but here he is.

'There is no way he could have heard that, is there?' He questions, trying to ignore the way his friends continue to snigger. 

Grantaire chooses to ignore them and takes another piece of parchment to write a reply, even when the class dwindles down as Professor Longbottom enters the room.

_Of course I'm going to be there, Apollo. Where else would I be and what else would I be doing?_

Before he even has a chance to cast a spell to send it over to Enjolras, or even add anything else to it, Éponine is snatching it from his grasp, knowing full well that if he had to call out in protest, it would gather the attention of the full class and that's something Grantaire never enjoys - unless it is to interrupt one of Enjolras' arguments just to rile him up even more.

He hisses a whisper. 'What the fuck, Ponine?' 

Éponine grins at him and takes her quill, placing an enchantment on it so the writing comes out looking exactly like Grantaire's. 

_Not to mention, you're gorgeous when you get riled up. You are breathtaking upon the podium, Enjolras._

'Ponine, don't you dare!' Grantaire goes to snatch the letter back from her, but before he can, she is taking her wand and casting a spell, turning it into an eight-legged spider that starts to scuttle across the floor to Enjolras.

'Dammit, Ponine!' He hisses as he watches it climb up Enjolras' leg and unfold itself on to his lap. 

When he witnesses Enjolras' gaze flicker downwards, his eyes flying across the page as he reads the words on the page, Grantaire groans loudly and buries his head in his folded arms. 

'Seriously. I really do hate you all.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

The rest of the class goes without any other comment, and when Enjolras doesn't send another note in reply, all Grantaire can do is glare at Éponine for ruining whatever _slim_ chance he had with Enjolras. 

Éponine, for her part, has the sense to apologise and offer to tell Enjolras that it was really her who sent the letter. 

But Grantaire just shakes his head. 'Probably for the best, anyway, right?' 

He parts with her at the doorway, for he has Muggle Studies and she has Divination, having decided that because she was Muggle-born herself, she really didn't see the point of having a NEWT in the subject. 

'Grantaire! Wait up!' 

Grantaire immediately falls silent, knowing exactly who's voice that is - he'd know it _anywhere_ \- and wonders what the hell he is going to do after the note Éponine sent to him. He is probably coming here to tell Grantaire to go away, to not even bother coming to anymore of his rallies and to stay _far, far_ away from him.

He stops in front of Grantaire a moment later, and Grantaire tries not to think about how the green and silver scarf wrapped around his long, elegant neck totally makes the green of his eyes much more vibrant - along with the blond curly hair that sits just above the scarf in a loose braid. 

Not one little bit.

'Look about the note-'

'Did you really mean it?' Enjolras cuts him off and Grantaire falls silent. How can he compete with such a fierce voice? But for all its fierceness, he notices that there's not a hint or trace of anger to be found. 

He's heard anger laced in Enjolras' voice before - has had it directed at him more times than he can count - so he knows what it sounds like. And it's definitely missing this time. 

'Uh…' 

'"You're gorgeous when you get riled up… breathtaking upon the podium"? I mean, I know you always call me Apollo - and I had to look into that, because I had no idea what you were talking about, coming from a Pureblood family, which is half the reason I take Muggle studies because your customs are entirely interesting and deserve to be shared with the rest of the Wizarding World, and the fact that people _still_ view you as secondhand citizens after everything that has happened is…' 

He trails off when he sees Grantaire's face twist. 

'I'm only half Muggle, Enjolras. If you want to have this debate, take it to Éponine. There are still some of your house that insist on calling her Mudblood. Don't get me wrong, she sends them to the Hospital Wing more often than not, but I don't get it as bad as her.' 

Grantaire knows it is a low shot, saying "your house" instead of just "Slytherin" but he just couldn't help it. Before he came to Hogwarts, Enjolras had never met a Half-blood or Muggle-born in his _life_.

Enjolras opens his mouth to retort to that but before he can, Grantaire just shakes his head and mutters, 'You got sidetracked anyway. You were saying something about… the _note_?' 

He tries to ignore the fact that his face is heating up. What on _earth_ possessed him to bring Enjolras' attention back to that stupid note of Éponine's, he will never know. 

'What? Oh, right!' Enjolras runs a hand through his hair, and Grantaire most certainly does _not_ track that movement with the imagination that it was his own hands carding through Enjolras' soft curls. 'So, like, did you mean it?' 

Grantaire thinks about explaining everything - that Éponine had stolen his note and used an enchantment to forge his writing, but then he remembers that he actually doesn't know why Enjolras was asking this.

He needs to find out what Enjolras' reaction will be - or at least get a hint - before he admits to anything. 

'Why does it matter?' 

Enjolras' eyes narrow then and an exasperated sigh breaks free from his lips.

His green eyes dart over Grantaire's face, and neither of them seem to care that the corridors are completely empty and they're _so_ going to get detention for being late to class. Again.

When Enjolras seems to realise that no-one is around to witness them, an idea pops into his head and before Grantaire can say anything else, or worry if he's actually managed to break him, Enjolras is grabbing ahold of the front of Grantaire's robes and hauling him closer to him. 

Grantaire's shout of surprise is cut off when Enjolras' lips descend onto his and it's all Grantaire can do to keep upright. 

Luckily Enjolras' arms are now wrapped rightly around him, and it takes Grantaire only a moment before he's moaning, his hands coming out to wrap around Enjolras' neck, then entwining in his hair like he had been imagining only a few moments ago.

He doesn't know how or when it happens, but soon Enjolras' back is being thrust against the stone wall and Grantaire is crowding closer to him, their hips meeting in a sharp twist that has both of them breaking apart from their kiss to moan into each other's neck.

'So… do you really mean it?' Enjolras whispers, his hand tracing patters from Grantaire's neck, right along his shoulder. 

Grantaire lets out a loud laugh, his hand coming up to cup Enjolras' cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone affectionately. 

'Apollo, I have you backed up against a wall, ready to ravish you if you were to ever say the word, passer-bys be damned. Do you really think I don't feel that way?' Grantaire's gaze drops away from Enjolras' for a moment, giving a disbelieving shake of his head, before he lifts his head and declares with a small smile, 'I love you, you adorable idiot.'

Enjolras beams at him. 

'I love you, too.' 

And with that, he pulls Grantaire back in for another kiss, pushing himself away from the wall so he can steer them to a nearby broom closet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	6. Day Six: Watching TV/Gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Modern AU  
> Stressed out/Snappy Enjolras  
> Comforting boyfriend R

Enjolras looks up from his essay, his gaze flickering over to Grantaire to see what he is doing. The moment his gaze lands on him, his eyes narrow into a glare at the annoying, persistent clicking of the buttons from the controller that Grantaire is using. 

He takes a deep breath in and he almost thinks he can manage to tune it out, but the moment he goes back his essay is the moment when Grantaire gives a loud shout, 'Just fucking _die_ , you asshole!' 

Enjolras throws his pen down onto the desk and stands sharply, knocking the chair he had previously been sitting on backwards so it clatters against the ground loudly.

The loud banging is enough to draw Grantaire from his game, pressing a button so the menu pops up, pausing whatever it was he had been playing. 

'Something wrong, babe?' 

Enjolras' eyes narrow and everything seems to come pouring out of him as if a damn seal has been broken; the lack of sleep, the lack of Amis meetings, the fact he hasn't really had a real _moment_ with Grantaire because of his exams… it's all making him mad. 

It's like everything seems to be set against him, and he finally snaps. 

'Wrong? How about I'm trying to write my final fucking essay, the one that will decide whether I graduate with honours or not, and all you're doing is fucking _clicking_ away at some stupid fucking game?! Or that there hasn't been an Amis meeting in two months because of this? How about the fact we haven't had a fucking moment in even longer? I am so fucking tired of all of this, and you're just sitting there not giving a shit!' 

Grantaire stares owlishly at Enjolras, mouth slightly agape and his head titled to the side in confusion. It only takes a few more seconds before Enjolras replays his words over again in his mind and he winces at what he had said. 

'I… I just mean…' His shoulders slump in defeat and he slowly lowers himself back down onto his seat after picking it up once more. He buries his face in his hands, the heels of his palms digging painfully into his eyes with a low sigh. 

He doesn't notice when Grantaire shuts his game off completely, before turning off the television as well because he's spent too much time with Jehan apparently, and all he can think about is the damage overused electricity is doing to the planet. 

He sets his controller down and wanders over to stand behind Enjolras, his bare feet meaning he makes no sound as he walks - all his friends always likened him to a cat, even when he wore his heavy boots. 

When his hands come down on Enjolras' shoulders, his boyfriend jumps and he has to hold back a chuckle, instead opting to start massaging his shoulders with soothing words. 

'C'mon,' he says after a bit, pulling Enjolras' chair back and moving his hands from his shoulders to his hands, entwining them with Enjolras'. 

'I've got an ess-'

'That will still be there after tonight.' Grantaire cuts him off, before he presses his lips to Enjolras is a soft kiss. ' _You…_ need to relax. So we are going to relax.' 

He pulls Enjolras from his seat and steers him over to the couch. Grantaire lies down on the couch first, before he pulls Enjolras down on top of him, who spreads himself over him like a oversized cat. 

'I really should finish that essay.' Enjolras murmurs as he winds his arms around Grantaire's shoulders, snuggling closer into the crook of his neck, pressing a thankful kiss there. 

'Like I said, it'll be there tomorrow. And your submission date isn't for another two weeks!' Grantaire mutters as he cards his hand through his boyfriend's soft locks. 'Let's just lie here for now.'

He presses his lips to Enjolras' forehead with a small smile forming on his lips.

'We'll go back to living on a live wire tomorrow.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	7. Day Seven: Injury/Illness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Canon Era  
> Successful Rebellion AU  
> Injured/shot R  
> Pining/Concerned E  
> Happy ending in that R is fine!!

Everything happens in slow motion. 

Enjolras is watching as Grantaire smiles at him in victory, for they had won, they had _finally_ won their revolution. He's just about to walk over to him - to take Grantaire into his arms and give him a kiss of victory (maybe even a kiss of love) - like he has wanted to for so many years. 

But then there's a shout. And that's then followed by a bang. And the smile on Grantaire's lips freezes on his face, but his eyes show the pain that is currently rippling through his body; ripping him apart. Enjolras watches as Grantaire's hand slowly comes up to cup his stomach, the white shirt he wears already being stained with red. 

It looks like wine that Grantaire loves to drink. 

 _The blood of angry men_.

But not him though. It was never meant to be him. 

Enjolras lets out a shout of Grantaire's name, before he's running over to him. He can't seem to move quick enough. His limbs won't move like he wants them to. It's like he's having the ground constantly being snatched out from under his feet. 

He's running and running, but can't seem to make up the distance; isn't moving any further forward.

Then suddenly he's crashing into Grantaire's side, his arm snaking around his waist as his free hand grabs onto his arm, trying to keep them both upright.

Enjolras is vaguely aware of people running about, there's some shouting and then another shot being fired. He just has enough of his mind to look around and see if it's another one of his friends that has fallen.

Instead of seeing a dead Amis on the ground, he finds the man that had shot Grantaire, a bullet in his head and blood spilling out in a puddle around him. There's a part of Enjolras that cherishes the sight.

'Joly!' Enjolras finds himself shouting. 'Combeferre. _Please_ , hurry.' 

His hold on Grantaire tightens and he wants to say something. He wants to comfort him, tell him that everything is gong to be okay and that nothing bad is going to happen, and that he'll be beside him until he's better. 

But he can't.

His eyes land on the red patch on Grantaire's stomach and everything stops. The world stops, the rushing around him stops and his breathing stops.

Somehow the arm that had been grabbing on to Grantaire's arm finds itself pressed over the wound, and somehow it makes him feel better; makes him feel like he's actually doing something to help.

But then Joly and Combeferre are at his side, and they're trying to pull him away and instead of going with them like he knows he should be, because he's just going to get in the way, he finds he somehow can't move. He lets out a shout when Combeferre tries to tug him away, and he shakes his head.

'Enjolras, we need to get him lying down as well as move him to a cleaner area.'

He shakes his head again.

'Enjolras, if you want us to help him,' Combeferre takes his face between his hands and tugs it away from the wound, so his gaze is frantically scanning his friend's face. 'If you want us to _save him_ , Enjolras, you need to let him go and do our work.' 

Enjolras lets out a whine, his eyes flying to Grantaire who is sagging against Joly, who is trying to pull him to another place - inside the Musain, probably - with Bahorel, but Enjolras' hands are still holding him tight.

' _Enjolras_!' Combeferre draws his attention back to him, and he coughs out a sob as he finally lets go go of Grantaire and allows Joly and Bahorel to pick him up. They move immediately and start to carry him through to the Musain to help him. 

Combeferre leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Enjolras' forehead. He pulls back and goes to stand, to follow his friends into the Musain, but then Enjolras' hand is tugging at his and he turns back to his best friend. 

' _Please_ , just, keep him _alive_.' 

Combeferre cups his cheek. 'I'll do everything I can.' 

He presses another kiss to Enjolras forehead before he stands, following Joly and Bahorel into the Musain. 

Enjolras doesn't move. He feels Courfeyrac and Jehan sit down beside him, wrapping their arms around him in comfort. 

He doesn't move; he doesn't speak. His eyes just stay on the entrance of the Musain, looking for any sign of Grantaire's fate.

And for the first time, since he was a young boy and was forced to do it, Enjolras _prays_.

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

'Feuilly!' 

Combeferre's shout brings Enjolras back to himself with a jerk. His eyes refocus and he looks up to see Combeferre stumble out of the Musain, blood splattered over himself and it makes something lodge in Enjolras' throat. 

'Feuilly. I need you to light a fire.' He declares and Enjolras frowns. He goes to stand up but Courfeyrac and Jehan hold him tight. He doesn't have any fight in him and so he stays on the ground, watching as Feuilly rushes over to a dry piece of wood with some splinters, and starts trying to light a fire.

His gaze then turns to Combeferre, finding him looking over his shoulder, apparently talking away with either Joly or Bahorel. Enjolras guesses it Joly though, if the concern etched on his face is anything to go by. 

Combeferre only gets that crease between his brows when he's concentrating or worried. Enjolras knows he's probably both of those right now. 

'What's going on?' He whispers and the arms around him tighten their hold in comfort. They don't reply to him. 'What is going on?' He speaks louder this time and manages to gather the attention of Combeferre, who looks _exhausted_.

'He's alive, Enjolras.' 

It's all he says for Feuilly is there in front of him, handing over a small torch of fire and then they both disappear back into the Musain, Bossuet following shortly behind him. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Enjolras isn't sure how long he's been sitting here. He's starting to see double, though seeing double Grantaire isn't exactly the worst in his mind. Though, he supposes, seeing double of Grantaire lying on a dingy mattress, still unconscious and a bandage wound tight around his lower abdomen, a small spot of blood seeping through, isn't exactly his dream sight of "double" Grantaire.

The second Combeferre and Joly came out and told him Grantaire was alive, he was on his feet within seconds, shrugging out of his friend's grasp. He was already through to Grantaire's side when Joly's voice followed him, warning him that the next twenty-four hours would be crucial for his survival. 

And that Enjolras himself should get some rest.

Even so Enjolras hasn't moved. 

His eyes seem to refocus on their own, and he blinks owlishly as he wonders what managed to draw his attention. 

That's when he sees it.

The soft shifting of Grantaire's body makes Enjolras fall forward, moving so he's hovering over Grantaire's body. His eyes are twitching behind their lids and when they finally creak open, Enjolras feels like his heart is going to explode. 

'Enjolras?' Grantaire croaks, a wince following shortly afterwards as he moves a little too much for his wound. 'Wha… what happened?' 

'You got shot. We _won_. But then you got shot and… _god,_ Grantaire, I thought I had lost you.' 

'Your life would have been brighter that way.' 

Enjolras's face contorts into a frown. 

'No. It wouldn't. It would have been darker because you weren't there. You believe in the cause; you believe in… _me_ … and you deserve to see what we had achieved come to fruition.' Enjolras stops as his eyes flicker over Grantaire's face, it suddenly becoming clear that he's there - _alive_ \- in front of him. 'God, Grantaire.'

Without even thinking about it, Enjolras launches himself at Grantaire, only pulling back when the man beneath him lets out a squeal of pain.

'Sorry.' Enjolras murmurs sheepishly, but then Grantaire is shaking his head, his hand shakily rising to rest on Enjolras' shoulder. 

'Don't be sorry for that.' He murmurs with a soft smile. He then tugs at Enjolras' shoulder. It takes a few times of pawing at him before Enjolras understands what he's asking, but when he does he then moves so he has Grantaire in his arms once more. 

He feels Grantaire press a gentle kiss against his temple, followed by another whisper of, 'Please, never, _ever_ , be sorry for this.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	8. Day Eight: Fancy Dress/In Costume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This day includes:
> 
> Established exR  
> E and R dressing up as Achilles and Patroclus  
> Hallowe'en party  
> Implied NSFW

Grantaire saunters into the living room with a bag tucked behind his back, a look of forced nonchalance on his face as he whistles some tune that Enjolras has never heard before. It may even be a new song that Grantaire is working on for all he knows, seeing as Grantaire has recently started playing the guitar again after three years.

Enjolras never understood what stopped him, but he's thankful he's playing again - even if he doesn't know the reason for Grantaire suddenly picking up the instrument again.

'You're not fooling anyone, R,' Enjolras mutters, eyes flickering briefly from his book to his boyfriend, sending him a small smirk as his face falls, losing the facade. 

'Well, it's better to surprise you than just outright ask you.' Grantaire declares as he rolls his eyes and pulls the bag out from behind him and sitting it down on the table. It's a plain brown paper bag that has no writing or logo on it, meaning Enjolras has no idea what the contents are going to be. 

'If this has _anything_ to do with Courfeyrac's Hallowe'en party tomorrow, I am going to kill you.' Enjolras warns as he slides a bookmark into his book, before closing it and setting it down on the coffee table beside the bag. 

'See! This is why you need to be surprised!' Grantaire says shaking his head with a scoff. 'Look, we have to go: they're our friends! And Courf has told us we're not getting in unless we are dressed up!' 

'Then we just don't go! I am not dressing up, Grantaire. It's just a stupid holiday destined to force money out of fools.' 

'Don't you ever take a break?' Grantaire mumbles with another shake of his head. 'Look, have fun for once! You and I, we'll dress up and get drunk, then come home and have drunken, giggly sex - which I know is your favourite on the rare occasions it happens, because you _let yourself go_. Enjolras, come _on_.' 

Enjolras removes his glasses, taking one of the legs into his mouth and chewing away at the tip as he studies Grantaire, who is grinning stupidly at him.

'Drunken, giggly sex you say?' He murmurs with a growing smile to match Grantaire's. 'Go on.' 

Grantaire's grin widens impossibly further. He slides onto the table, his knees throbbing from resting against the solid wood, but he still stays there, leaning over until his hands are clasped on Enjolras' knees. 

'You and I go as the greatest love story in all of history,' Enjolras arches his eyebrow in questioning and all Grantaire can do is roll his eyes, expanding, 'Achilles and Patroclus, idiot,' Enjolras hums in recognition, then gestures for Grantaire to continue, 'we show everyone how amazing we are, all the while getting drunker and drunker, until we eventually stumble into one of Courf and Ferre's spare bedrooms, where we will make out like teenagers until our friends eventually get sick fed up at our adorableness and throw us out.' 

Grantaire crawls off the table and slides onto Enjolras' lap, and he's thankful for all the muscle he has from dancing and fighting that he was able to do that without falling flat on his face into Enjolras' lap… though now the image has presented itself in his mind, Grantaire's pretty certain he'd rather have that now. 

Still, he wraps his arms around Enjolras' neck as he straddles him, fingers curling into the small ringlets at the base of Enjolras' neck that have managed to escape his bun, and he presses a gentle kiss to Enjolras' lips before continuing. 

'So after that we get a cab where we scar the driver for life because of how indecently we're groping each other - we tip him extra for the mental damage - and then we come home, where we stumble to the bedroom and I fuck you until you can't remember anything but my name.' He takes Enjolras' earlobe into his mouth, softly biting down on the flesh and drawing a moan from Enjolras already. His hips buck upwards and Grantaire buries his face in the crook of Enjolras' neck to hide the victorious grin that's blossoming on his face. 

'So, how does that sound?' 

Enjolras' hips shift, clearing his throat as Grantaire pulls back to look him in the eye. His gaze is already hazy from lust and his hands land his boyfriend's waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

'It sounds good,' Enjolras agrees with a nod of his head. 'But I have a slightly better alternative.' 

Grantaire gives a chuckle, raising his eyebrow in a silent question, because he should have saw this coming. Trust Enjolras to always have the last word. It really shouldn't be surprising anymore 

'Do tell.' 

'We do all of what you just said, not a single thing changes with that arrangement.' Enjolras' hand slides up Grantaire's back in a teasing motion, before it curls into his hair and tugs him forward until there's only a breath of space between them. 'But I have this idea… that we turn up late to the party, because you and I lost track of time because we were too busy having sober, athletic sex to contrast with the drunken, giggly sex later.'

Enjolras then tugs Grantaire's head again, closing the almost non-existent gap between them with a fierce kiss. Their teeth clash but neither of them care about the sharp pain that shoots through their mouths, only readjusting themselves so that they don't have a repeat of the motion.

Grantaire is panting by the time he wrenches his lips away from Enjolras - and _seriously_ , he deserves a medal for being able to do that, but everyone knows that if Grantaire has a chance to be a little shit and wind Enjolras up, he will take that opportunity, no matter what the consequences are.

He purses his lips and moulds his face into a perfect picture of disinterest as he pretends to examine his nails.

'Hmm, I suppose that sounds _okay_.' 

Enjolras rolls his eyes with a scoff, before he pulls Grantaire back in for a kiss, and is then happily pushed onto his back a moment later with Grantaire hovering over him, who has evidently decided that now would be a perfect time to get into the whole "sober, athletic sex" that would lead to them being late for Courfeyrac's Hallowe'en party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	9. Day Nine: Cooking Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things in this day:
> 
> R is an amazing cook  
> E sucks at cooking  
> E wants to learn whatever R is willing to teach him  
> Cute kisses and fluff

Grantaire finds his gaze flickering over to Enjolras and then trying his hardest not to giggle at the sight he sees. Enjolras has a knife in his hand, three carrots on the chopping board in front of him and with the upmost look of concentration on his face, he picks one up before trying to peel the skin off it. 

'No need to look so serious, Enjolras.' Grantaire mutters with a grin as he dices up the onion in front of him, before adding it to the frying pan. 

It's Grantaire's turn to be the host of the monthly Les Amis movie night, which usually means having a shitload of food to keep everyone content. It also meant that it is Enjolras's turn too, seeing as they had just moved in together two weeks ago. 

And because of Jehan, Grantaire has opted for cooking an entire Vegan buffet so that his friend felt included in all the meals, instead of just having one little corner on the table like usual - and because Grantaire really enjoys pushing his boundaries. He knows the reason for only having a tiny portion for Jehan is because the others just aren't as adventurous when it comes cooking - whenever it's Bahorel's turn, it's always a table full of takeaway - but Grantaire's different. 

He really enjoys cooking. 

Enjolras, on the other hand, does not. So when he offered to help Grantaire prepare the food, his brain nearly imploded. But if there's one that Grantaire can absolutely _not_ do, it is say "no" to Enjolras, and so that's how he's got E in their kitchen for the first time, looking so confused as he tries to peel a carrot for the carrot cake that it's almost adorable.

'I don't want to fuck this up.' Enjolras mutters in reply before cursing again when he takes another chunk out of the carrot with the knife. He grits his teeth and tries again, but the same thing happens and he snaps, throwing the knife and carrot back down on to the counter with another curse. 

'Enjolras,' Grantaire shakes his head, opening the drawer just to his right and pulls out a peeler. He takes Enjolras' hand in his and places the peeler into his palm, curling his fingers around the object before he drops a kiss to his knuckles. 'That'll make it easier.' 

Grantaire returns to mixing up the mix for the cake, stopping every now and then to stir the vegetables in the frying pan which he is going to add to a sauce, then mix it with rice for some type of salad.

Enjolras watches him flit around the kitchen like he was born to do it, and he swallows hard, turning his attention back to the carrots that he's managed to make all lumpy because of his inability to peel with a knife. 

'Why did you agree to me helping you?' Enjolras questions as he picks up the carrot and shaves the skin off with the new peeler. It is definitely much easier than the previous knife he was using, and he wonders why Grantaire didn't give him this to start with… then again, he's seen Grantaire use the same knife to prepare all of his ingredients. 'You obviously know I suck at cooking… unless taking off a plastic cover and putting it in the oven counts as cooking, in which case I am a master chef.' 

Grantaire gives a scoff of laughter, shaking his head as he places the bowl on his electronic mixer and picks the setting. As the cake mix starts being beat together, he turns back to Enjolras with a small smile on his face.

'That totally does _not_ count. In fact, I am actually appalled you even thought I would _consider_ that as counting.' His lips twitch and Enjolras can't even fight the matching smile that spreads across his face. 'But you asked to help and it's the first time you've ever wanted to help me cook… I don't know.' 

Grantaire gives a shrug and turns to stir the vegetables again, before he empties them into another bowl. 

'And believe it or not, I used to suck too.' Grantaire admits as he turns back to Enjolras, after mixing the vegetables through the sauce. 'There was a time I burnt a boiled egg; a time where my omelette had shell in it and was runny and tasted fucking disgusting.' 

Enjolras scoffs in disbelief because Grantaire's omelette's are fucking to die for, so Grantaire continues, 'It's true! Just ask Joly and Bossuet when they get here. Cooking… it's a learning process. You can't just wake up one day and prepare all of this,' he waves his hand to the kitchen, which looks like it has enough food make Jesus and the 5,000 jealous. 'And when you asked… I just thought it'd be nice; it'd be that one more thing that you and I share.'

The way he ends his sentence, in a clipped, tight tone, makes Enjolras nearly one-hundred-percent certain that he isn't saying exactly what he wants to say. 

'What else aren't you saying?' Enjolras questions, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he's one minute away from reading Grantaire's mind for the answer.

Grantaire sighs and turns his back on Enjolras as he answers. 'And I just thought that… it'd finally be something _I_ could teach _you_. Y'know, you've taught me so much over our time together, and I love that, but I hate the feeling that I can't give you anything back… and I just thought this could be something I could give you.' 

Grantaire doesn't hear Enjolras walk towards him and only knows of his presence when his arms wrap around his waist, his chin resting on his shoulder and Grantaire gives a tiny jump, that Enjolras' chuckle manages to soothe. 

'You are one adorable fool.' Enjolras murmurs, pressing a kiss to Grantaire's stubble covered cheek. 'If you want to teach me how to cook, you are more than welcome to. I will be an invested student.' 

Grantaire smiles at him but Enjolras can see through it and so pulls away just enough to turn Grantaire around in his arms, so he is facing him instead of the food. 

'I mean it, R, you can teach me to cook, to paint, to dance, to sing, to play guitar, to box, to fence, whatever! I will gladly take whatever you want to teach me.' Enjolras admits. He goes to say more but then Grantaire's lips are on his and he finds he doesn't even remember what he has to say. He is more than happy to stay like this, with Grantaire in his arms and Grantaire's lips on his.

And the only reason they break apart is because Grantaire smells something burning, and that's the first rule of cooking: no getting distracted by your boyfriend's kisses. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	10. Day Ten: Arranged Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this day includes:
> 
> voice of reason Combeferre  
> pining Enjolras  
> pining Grantaire  
> Patria = Patrice (cause i suck)  
> and a quote from tsoa (cause i suck more than previously stated)

Enjolras paces about his room, his hands clenched firmly in his hair as he feels tears sting at his eyes - and it's not from the pain in his scalp. How is he supposed to go through with this? He _can't_. That's how he's supposed to go through with this… by _not_ going through with it!

'Courf!' He shouts and it only takes a moment before his friend bounds into the room, Combeferre trailing behind him as well. They're not really the people he wants to see right now, hell, he only wants to see one person but he can't make his name leave his lips; can't make his feet move to his chambers.

'You look horrible.' Courfeyrac declares as he saunters over to Enjolras' bed, flopping down onto it with an air of nonchalance that only Courfeyrac can manage. 

Enjolras glares at him, letting his hands drop from his hair and dig into his hips instead. Pain. Pain is good right now. It's much better than the empty, dead weight that has been settled over his chest ever since his father told him the news. 

'Tell me something I do not know, Courf.' He snaps, turning his attention to Combeferre, who looks much more relaxed and sympathetic. He looks like he understands the weight of expectation that has fallen onto Enjolras' shoulders. 'Have you seen him?' 

They don't need to ask to know who is referring to, so Combeferre just nods his head. 'He's…' his gaze flickers over to Courfeyrac who winces and turns away, rolling over to his stomach and picking an apple from the fruit bowl beside Enjolras' bed in an attempt to ignore the situation at hand.

'He's what?' Enjolras prompts, his gaze flickering between his two best friends. 'Ferre, tell me! He's what? What's wrong?' 

Combeferre swallows and his hand reaches up to run through his black locks, trying to will himself to speak. It only takes Enjolras calling his name again, demanding an answer, that Combeferre sighs and finally tells Enjolras what he's doing. 

'He's packing his bags.' Combeferre raises his eyes to Enjolras, finding that he looks like all the air has just been knocked out of his lungs. 'He says… he doesn't want to distract you any longer and is… leaving so you can be who you deserve to be.' 

Enjolras studies Combeferre's face, half expecting, half _hoping_ , that he is going to turn around and start laughing; to say that it's all a lie because since when does Grantaire want to leave you? But he doesn't. His face remains as grave as it did the moment he stepped into the room, and Enjolras realises that this is all very true… Grantaire is leaving. He's leaving because he thinks this is what Enjolras wants. 

'But… but I never said I wanted… _this_.' He finishes with a whisper and Courfeyrac is the one to answer him this time. 

'You never said you didn't want it either, Enjolras.' Courfeyrac informs as he sits up once more, taking a large lump out of the apple. 'The only time you have said anything was when your father broke the news to you, and you took Patrice into your arms and said you'd be so very happy together.' 

Combeferre winces. 'What were you thinking when you said that, by the way?' 

'I was looking at him when I said it!' 

'Oh, that makes all the difference!' Courfeyrac rolls his eyes as he throws his hands into the air. 'Look, he's leaving at midnight, so you've got to decide what you want E! Do you want to marry Patrice, make your father happy and become the king eventually, or do you want Grantaire?' 

'I…' 

Combeferre is the one to speak: 'And if you can't decide on either, Enjolras, then let Grantaire go.' 

'What? I can't let him go, Ferre.' Enjolras retorts but Combeferre just holds his hands up, showing him that he doesn't want any confrontation.

'All I'm saying is that if you can't decide what you want more, your father's approval or Grantiare; your father's life or your own life, then stay here and let Grantaire go. He doesn't need the weight of guilt on his shoulders if you end up deciding you should have stayed here with Patrice. He doesn't need you growing to resent him from taking everything away from you.' Combeferre moves forward until his hands are resting on Enjolras' shoulder and he forces Enjolras' gaze to meet his. 'Courfeyrac and I will leave you to think, but remember you are also dealing with real people here, Enjolras. Don't hurt them because _you_ made the wrong mistake.' 

Combeferre moves away, dragging Courfeyrac off the bed and onto his feet, then tugging him towards the door all whilst ignoring his shouts of protest. 

'But,' Enjolras starts up again and both Combeferre and Courfeyrac stop, turning back to him briefly with raised eyebrows. 'I love him.' 

Combeferre smiles softly, sadly, and his only reply is, 'Then don't hurt him,' before he leaves Enjolras alone with his thoughts. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Grantaire puts the last thing into his bag, trying to forget that it's the first book that Enjolras gave him - when he had started to teach him how to read. It had been about gods and fights for honour. He had fallen in love with it the first time he was able to read it through, without having to stop and ask for help - without getting frustrated with himself because he couldn't sense of the words.

He should have learnt his lesson from the book - the mightiest of gods do not fall for the meek humans. They need to be brave or beautiful or special. Grantaire is none of those things, and it's only right that Enjolras - a man as bright as the sun - ends up with someone as equally miraculous (or as close as possible, anyway). 

He pulls his bag over his shoulder and makes his way out of the castle. It would be much easier if he had a horse, but he does not and so he needs to walk; something that will make his journey longer and much more arduous.

'Grantaire!' He hears his name echo throughout the courtyard but he shakes his head and pushes on. It's just his mind; his imagination pulling tricks on him, trying to convince him that Enjolras cares.

'Grantaire!' 

It comes again, and it is far too close and far too desperate for it to be his imagination. Enjolras never begs in his imagination - Enjolras never begs at all. 

The sound of hooves battering against ground comes a moment later and Grantaire stops dead in his tracks. He cranes his head to look over his shoulder and finds Enjolras on his black-and-white horse, cantering towards him with panic in his gaze.

'I thought I was too late.' He whispers as he pulls his horse to a halt in front of Grantaire, who vaguely notices that there's two bags slung over the horse's rump. 

'What?' Grantaire questions because this cannot be happening; this does not happen to men like him. 

Enjolras extends his hand and moves forward, revealing the space behind him on the saddle. 

'I do not want to marry her; I do not care for fortunes. You. That is what I care about. You and I; we can change the world Grantaire. If you let me come with you.' 

It staggers Grantaire that he's asking permission to come with him. The last time any of them had asked permission was when Grantaire had first kissed him. 

_"Do you permit it?"_

_Enjolras nodded. His eyes drifted shut. Their lips met in a fierce kiss._

 'You would give everything up for me?' 

Enjolras' lips quirk and his fingers twitch, drawing Grantaire's attention back to them. They're still outstretched towards him. 

Enjolras shakes his head. 'I gained much more with you than I could have with a crown.' His eyes turn pleading and he looks vulnerable. Enjolras never looks vulnerable. ' _Please, Grantaire.'_

Grantaire doesn't say anything - finds his voice cannot work. He pushes his hand into Enjolras' and allows himself to be hoisted onto the horse behind the man he loves. 

'So, we're changing the world, huh?' Grantaire questions, finally getting his voice to work now he has Enjolras in his arms again, as he rests his chin on Enjolras' shoulder, who then kicks his horse into a canter once more. 

And all Enjolras does is place his hand over one of Grantaire's that is wrapped around his waist, and entwines their fingers together. 

 _Yes, we're going to eat the world raw_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	11. Day Eleven: Bathing Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on this day:
> 
> bathing together isn't as romantic as they thought  
> they need to stop listening to their poetic friend - especially when it comes to romance

Grantaire winces as yet another drop of water lands on his head with a dull thud. He looks up at the leaky shower faucet with a glare, but it loses its effect when yet another drip lands right on the bridge of his nose, the water then rolling down either side of his face and into his eyes. 

He winces and curses, 'Fucking hell. What a piece of useless-'

'Oh, be quiet, you haven't got the worse end of this arrangement.' Enjolras' voice cuts him off, and when Grantaire lowers his head again, after wiping away the water from his eyes, he frowns at his golden lover.

Enjolras sits at the other end of the small bathtub, his back pressed up against the taps, readjusting himself every five seconds because of the shockingly different temperatures that are a shock to his skin. His body is awkwardly angled to avoid the red hot tap as well as the freezing cold one, all the while trying to rest against _something_ so his bones don't ache.

'At least you're able to rest your back _comfortably.'_ Enjolras sneers as he shuffles again, arching his back like a cat until the bones crack loud enough for Grantaire to hear. 

'I wish you would stop doing that.' Grantaire admonishes with another wince, before he shuffles forward, finally deciding to move out of the path of the dripping water. He sighs to himself as Enjolras winces too and lets out a hiss when his skin comes in contact with the warm tap, before he jerks away from both taps. 'Why are we even _doing_ this?' 

Enjolras shrugs as he pushes himself forward, until their legs were tangled in a mess of limbs but they're no longer in danger of their bathtub demons. 

'I have no idea. _Jehan_ said it would be romantic.' 

Grantaire scoffs with a roll of his eyes. 'That's fucking likely. Jehan seems to forget that not everyone has a six-foot-wide bathtub with spa jets and a centred tap with a… separate shower. The lucky bastard.' 

Enjolras lets out a chuckle at his boyfriend's last sneer, and finds himself somehow managing to readjust his long, lanky limbs until he's spread over Grantaire's chest, staring up at him with a growing smirk on his lips. 

'Well, how about we forget about this shitty experience, and demand a go in Jehan's tub because he's the one that gave us the idea.' Enjolras murmurs against the skin of Grantaire's neck, smiling to himself when he feels his Adam's apple bob under his lips. 

'Well, my darling, Enjolras,' Grantaire grins as he wraps his arms around Enjolras' slim frame. 'That sounds like an amazing plan… but can you please get off of me, I can't feel my fucking legs.' 

Enjolras sputters about ungrateful lovers, but as Grantaire removes his arms from around his body to allow him to climb out of the tub, he does so without any further comment. Grantaire then follows him out of the bathtub a moment later. 

Enjolras goes to pick up his favourite green towel that actually belongs to Grantaire, but Grantaire snatches it from his hand and shakes his head slowly with a growing smile on his lips. 

'No, no, no, there's no need for that,' he starts as he lets the towel fall to the ground, sauntering over to him and wrapping his arms around his waist, tugging the blond closer to his body. 'This experience is ending on a high note; I'll dry you with my _tongue_.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	12. Day Twelve: As Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this day:
> 
> e and r as childhood sweethearts  
> reference to child abuse  
> fluff  
> prom  
> flashbacks

Grantaire flicks through the photo album that his mother had sent him. It had filled him with warmth to find a package from her on his doorstep only a few days ago, seeing as he hasn't been home in nearly three years due to his justified decision of avoiding his father - something his mother understood, but didn't have the courage to copy.

'What's that?' Enjolras' voice appears at his shoulder and Grantaire jumps, closing over the album the second he hears his voice, though he's not one-hundred-percent why. His childhood was no secret to Enjolras, even if it was something he wasn't happy with, or enjoyed reliving all that often.

After all, Enjolras had been a part of his childhood and so knew everything that had happened to him. He didn't need to be filled in; he didn't need to be walked through the photo album - hell, half of the photos were of Grantaire and Enjolras together… more than half really. 

Still, there's something personal about sharing the album his mother had managed to hide from his father's destructive hands when his son moved in with another man - _abomination -_ and then sent to Grantaire for safekeeping. 

Then he remembers that this is Enjolras. _Enjolras_ , the boy who stood up for him when they first met and Montparnasse had pushed Grantaire into a puddle of dirt; _Enjolras_ , the teenager who stayed by his side whilst his father started getting worse and Grantaire started showing up to school and outings with bruises and dirty clothes; _Enjolras_ the eighteen-year-old who gave Grantaire a kiss of relief when he found out they were going to the same university. 

 _Enjolras_ , the man who has been his boyfriend for the past five years and has been living with him for the past two. 

'Photo album.' Grantaire answers shortly, not meaning to be so snappy in his reply but he can't seem to help it.

Thankfully, Enjolras doesn't say a thing about that, apparently sensing Grantaire's discomfort. He only sits down on the sofa beside Grantaire and slings his arm around his shoulders, craning his head over so he can look at the photos too. He almost half expects Grantaire to push him away, especially since he is able to _see_ the tension in Grantaire's shoulders, feel them with the brush of his fingertips, but Grantaire doesn't push away. 

Instead, Grantaire lets out a long exhale and moves, wrapping his arm behind Enjolras' back in an embrace meant to keep him grounded and safe as he returns Enjolras' smile. 

Enjolras presses the softest of kisses to his cheek before he turns back to the album, a growing smile on his lips when he sees the first photo that his gaze lands on. He reaches across and points to it, his finger hovering just above the image. 

'Remember that?' He questions, pointing to a picture of both he and Grantaire when they were around six or seven years old. Grantaire's arm is in a plaster-cast and Enjolras is in the middle of helping Grantaire pull on his favourite green hoody.

Grantaire's lips quirk in amusement and he nods his head. 'Of course I do! I still have the scar from when the bone broke through!' He admits, pulling his hand away from the book so he can roll up the sleeve on yet another favourite green hoody. He then turns his wrist over so he can show Enjolras, who gives a guilty smile as his eyes brush over the faint, silvery line that makes up his scar. 

'Sorry.' Enjolras mumbles, reaching over to press a soft kiss against it, then lacing their fingers together.

'You should be,' Grantaire retorts, trying to be serious but finding that he can't keep the growing smile off his face. 'You were the one that dared me to walk on the fence!' 

_'Go on, Grantaire!' Enjolras said, pushing Grantaire towards the fence with a smile. 'You're not scared of anything! Show them how it is done!'_

_Grantaire smiled in reply, unable to deny Enjolras anything and he wandered over to the fence, pulling himself up on to the thin slats. It took him a few seconds before he got his balance, and when he did he finally started to move._

_He took hesitant steps at first, gradually growing in confidence until he passed the third post. He turned to Enjolras with a loud laugh of triumph, which his blond friend returned._

_That's when his feet wobbled, his arms waved trying to steady him again before he was on the ground, pain exploding through his body, originating from his wrist, as Enjolras ran to him, shouting loudly for help._

_And the last thing he heard was Enjolras calling his name, telling him he'd been fine._

Grantaire flicks the page and Enjolras buries his head into Grantaire's shoulder, trying to ignore that his boyfriend's body is shaking with laughter.

'You're still adorable.' Grantaire states, bringing his hand up to run through Enjolras' long hair, which is a sharp contrast to his bald head in the photo. 

'I look like an _alien_!' Enjolras retorts as he finally turns his gaze to the photo, only to groan once more at the sight of his eight-year-old self, completely bald and crying dramatically at the camera.

'Only a little.' Grantaire concedes with a cough of laughter. 'An adorable alien though.' 

_Grantaire followed the sound of crying and when he found Enjolras, he had to do a double take, for instead of finding a head of golden hair… he just found a head._

_'What happened?'_

_'It got caught and had to get cut, and Mother couldn't salvage it.' He lifted his head from his knees, turning to his best friend even though he hadn't raised his head since his hair had been cut. 'I look like a freak!'_

_Grantaire dropped to his knees in front of him, cupped his face and pressed his lips to Enjolras' in a soft brush._

_'You're beautiful, no matter what.'_

They're not sure how long they sit there, flicking through the photos and reminiscing, but when they come to the last page, they both fall silent and lean their heads against each other as they study the image in front of them.

'That was a good night.' Enjolras is the first to break the silence and Grantaire smiles, nodding his head in agreement, fingers brushing over Enjolras' knuckles of their still entwined hands.. 

'It _was_ a good night.' 

_Enjolras wrapped his arm around Grantaire's waist and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, brushing a hand through perfectly combed out curls, ruffling them up so they fall into Grantaire's face like they normally do._

_'There, you look more like you.'_

_Grantaire smiled softly, almost sadly. 'I just wanted to look more the part of your,' the frown disappeared from his face, slowly being replaced by a dazzling smile as he finished, 'date.'_

_Enjolras turned and cupped his face, pressing a soft kiss to Grantaire's lips before he pulled back, blue eyes fierce and stunning as they burned into Grantaire's._

_'I asked you because you're you. You could have come to prom in paint-stained jeans and your green hoody and I would have been happy; ecstatic, because it was you that was here with me.'_

_'You could have told me that! I wouldn't have looked like a idiot in this!' Grantaire scoffed as he gestured to his body, clad in a black suit that covered an emerald green dress shirt. He then shook his head with another smile and surged forward, wrapping his arms around Enjolras' neck and pulling him down for a hard kiss._

_Neither of them cared when they heard the click of the camera._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	13. Day Thirteen: Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this day includes:
> 
> extreme angst  
> drug use  
> arguments  
> storming out  
> overdosing  
> what could be taken as implied death  
> mentions of physical abuse
> 
> SERIOUSLY! THIS IS AN ANGSTY PART AND IF DRUG ABUSE/PHYSICAL ABUSE/ANY KIND OF ABUSE TRIGGERS YOU: **DO NOT READ!!**

'What does that even _mean_?' Grantaire shouts, hands reaching up to run through his hair, before they curl around the ends and _tug_. Pain explodes through his scalp but he doesn't care. Pain like this he can deal with; physical pain is something he's used to - from the beatings his father used to give him for just existing, to the wounds he used to inflict on himself because he still existed. Pain is something he _gets_. 

This, however, this is something he cannot understand. 

'I just… want to keep this away from our friends. That is all.' Enjolras replies and Grantaire scoffs, hands falling limply to his side. 

'You're embarrassed about this, aren't you? That's the whole reason you don't tell anyone; that's the reason you wait an hour or two until you come around here; that is why, whenever I get a little too close, you push me away and start an argument.' Grantaire grinds his teeth together and slams his eyes shut, squeezing them tightly together until even the darkness goes hazy. 'You're embarrassed to be seen with _me_ , aren't you?'

Enjolras scrubs his hand over his face. 'I didn't say tha-'

'You didn't need to! It's written all over your face; it's in all your actions!' 

'Fine! If that's what you want to believe then go ahead and believe it!' Enjolras snaps, turning around with his eyes narrowed and glaring at Grantaire. 'If you want to believe that I'm embarrassed by you, then you fucking do that. I don't care anymore. I'm tired of every _single_ one of our conversations ending in an argument.' 

Grantaire storms closer, but then stops because he knows if he gets too close then he won't be able to control himself. He'll either launch himself at Enjolras for a fight or for fucking, there will be no holding back and he won't even be certain what's going to come out. They may even bleed into each other. He can just imagine hurting him, grinding bruises into Enjolras' pale skin as he fucked him. 

'It wouldn't end in an argument if you just had to be _open_ with me. Tell me what you're thinking; what you're feeling!' 

'You want to know how I'm feeling?' Enjolras questions, but Grantaire knows by the venom in his voice that he's not going to open up. This isn't going to be anything to help whatever they fucking have together. It's just going to drive them even further apart. 'I'm feeling really fucking annoyed. I'm feeling smothered because you're so fucking insecure you can't realise that I _do_ care about you, but I don't think it's our friends business to know that. You're so fucking self-depreciating that you're pushing everyone that cares about you away.' 

Enjolras moves over and takes his red coat off the rack, where it had been hung only an hour ago. 

'I'm _feeling,'_ the word is meant to mock Grantaire, and he knows that _,_ 'that the very sight of you right now is repulsing me, and I need to get out of here before I end up doing something I'll regret.' He snarls before he stomps over to the door, pulling it open with such force that it nearly tears the door off its hinges. It slams against the wall and comes flying back to Enjolras, who holds out his hands and stops it, even if it does whack against his palms rather painfully. He doesn't give a hiss or even wince. 

He steps over the threshold but stops once he's in the corridor, tugging on his black scarf. He turns back to Grantaire, who notes that there's some sort of… defeat in his gaze.

'Call me when you're sober.' Enjolras murmurs, his eyes flicking over the several wine bottles that litter the coffee table in the middle of the room. The ones that had been there when he arrived.

Grantaire sees red at the comment and storms after him, stopping at the edge of his door and calling out after him, 'Don't fucking count on it!' 

He then turns, slamming the door behind him and not even caring when the pictures on the wall come falling down with the force, the glass shattering as soon as they land on the floor. 

Grantaire storms over to the fridge, pulling the door open and digging out the three bottles of wine he has stashed in there. He pulls the cork out of one as he stumbles over to his couch, sinking down onto it after grabbing the bottle of vodka for later, when the vodka has dulled his tastebuds.

He leaves the fridge door open, ignoring the flickering light that it emits as he downs the content of the first bottle, before moving on to the second. 

His vision is blurry by the time he's moved onto the third, and he doesn't know how he manages it, but he tugs his phone from his pocket and unlocks it, moving through his contacts. 

_To: Montparnasse_

_Today: 23:56_

_hey. u got a hit?_

The reply is almost immediate:

_From: Montparnasse_

_Today: 23:56_

         _Of course. €35 x_

Grantaire rubs his thumb over the screen of his phone, fingers tracing over the words that Parnasse had replied with and finds himself becoming more and more relaxed. It has been a long time since had had a hit… but right now, it's what he wants; what he needs.

The wine, the shots of vodka… it's just not doing what he wants and with this in mind, he replies:

_To: Montparnasse_

_Today: 00:002_

_bring it over. u r not stayin. but i cant move_

When he gets Montparnasse's reply - _As you say. Be there in five. x -_ he finally pulls himself off the couch, staggering over to the door and unlocking it, knowing that Parnasse has an awful habit for sauntering in without knocking. As well as an aversion to knocking. He knows that if he just left the door locked, Montparnasse would try it, and then just walk away if he couldn't get in by himself.

He then finally sits down on the couch once more, unsure of how long he waits there before Montparnasse walks in and stops in front of him. 

'You look like fucking shit.' He declares as he thrusts the small bag at Grantaire, who just manages to catch it and not allow it to be lost down the side of his possession-eating-couch. 

'Money's in my wallet.' Grantaire informs, studying the contents of the bag and noting how much is inside. He doesn't even care if he takes more than he should. He just stands from his seat and walks through to his bedroom, closing the door behind him incase Montparnasse chooses to ignore his text and stay - something he does quite often.

He reaches underneath his bed and pulls out his tin, flicking it open without even a hint of hesitation. He sits everything out in the order he would need it; the heroin, the spoon, the lighter, the needle, the tourniquet.

He pours the heroin onto the spoon and takes his lighter, holding it just below the spoon and allowing it to melt into a dark, sticky substance. He then siphons it into the syringe and adds the needle, setting it aside for a second as he rolls his sleeve upwards and reveals the crook of his elbow, which has healing marks from his past abuse - marks that Enjolras has pressed kisses to. 

He shakes his head vehemently and wraps his makeshift tourniquet - a bright red tie, he tries not to think that it's Enjolras' favourite colour-  around his arm, tying it tight.

Once it's secure enough, he takes the needle and pushes it into his skin, taking a deep breath in before he starts to shove the junk into his vein. He knows that the amount Parnasse gave him was enough for about two or three hits, and that his stuff was strong, but Grantaire doesn't even care.

He injects all of it into him and allows everything to wash away; the fight with E, the self doubt, the worthlessness… it all fades away into darkness. 

Just like he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	14. Day Fourteen: Carnival/Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this day:
> 
> side courferre  
> e and r are adorable dorks  
> r works at a caricature booth

Grantaire tries not to let his mouth drop open when he sees the man that is walking towards him… well, walking would be the wrong word. Being physically dragged would be a more correct description. 

Two of his friends - well, Grantaire assumes they're his friends, seeing as he's not struggling or shouting for help - have their arm threaded through one of his, pulling him towards Grantaire and his booth with expressions of mirth on their faces. 

'He has been talking about having a caricature done ever since we had decided to come to this thing!' One of them says when they finally stop in front of Grantaire and his stall. His dark skin is a stark contrast to the pale skin of the blond god that he has his arm wrapped around. 

'But,' the other cuts in, dark hair falling into his gaze much like Grantaire's does, and he reaches up with his free hand to push it out of his face. Unlike Grantaire's, the hair doesn't immediately fall down and miraculously stays in place. 'He is too scared to come and ask you for his beloved caricature, because he's secretly in love with you.' 

'Courf!' The blond god exclaims in shock, blue eyes widening as they flicker between his friends and Grantaire. 

Grantaire, who is pretty damn sure he's flushing bright red right now, reaches up and runs a hand through his unruly curls, his eyes staying permanently on the blond so they can share their mutual mortification. And also because he really is a pretty sight.

'Anyway!' The friend, Courf, draws their attention with a clap of his hands, which then reach for the other friend's hand, their fingers threading together. 'My boyfriend and I are going to ride the ferris wheel. You two have fun!' 

Without another word, he pulls his boyfriend away and when they finally blend into the crowd, the blond turns to Grantaire and clears his throat.

'I am so sorry about Courfeyrac, he doesn't seem to realise that not all people are okay with… well, what he just put you through.'

Grantaire gives a laugh, shaking his head. 'Don't worry about it…' he trails off, waiting for the blond to fill in the silence with his name. But he doesn't. Instead he stares a Grantaire with his head cocked to the side, and so Grantaire clears his throat and murmurs, 'This would be the part where you tell me your name.' 

'Oh!' Blondie flushes even more, and Grantaire tries not to think how utterly adorable that is. 'Enjolras. My name is Enjolras.'

'Grantaire.' He replies, extending his hand in a shake and trying not to think about how beautiful and long Enjolras' fingers are. 'So, you want a caricature?' 

Enjolras only nods, as if he's been through too much embarrassment to talk now. 

'Well, I'm afraid I can't do it.' Grantaire declares, watching as Enjolras face perks up at his voice, and then turns into a crestfallen expression which does something to Grantaire's soul. He continues, because he can't have that expression on Enjolras' face for much longer, 'But only because there's nothing wrong with you! For me, I exaggerate my nose and ears; for your friend Courf it'd be his hair and eyes, for his boyfriend it'd be his glasses… but you! You're not caricature material I'm afraid.' 

Enjolras blinks up at him and Grantaire prattles on, not really sure where the sudden confidence is coming from - though it may just be nervousness.

'What you are, however, is coffee-date material. So if you want, I can shut the booth for half-an-hour whilst I get my break, and we can get coffee.' 

Enjolras stares at him for a bit longer, and Grantaire is almost ready to take everything back when he finally nods his head, a slow smile blossoming on his lips. 

'I'd like that a lot.' He nods his head. 'I'd like that a lot.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	15. Day Fifteen: Historical AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this chap:
> 
> greek au  
> trojan war au  
> demi god enjolras  
> i'll follow you into the dark reference bc im trash

Grantaire runs his fingers through Enjolras' soft, blond curls that lie haphazardly over the pillows that his head is resting on. He studies his lover's face, watching as his eyes stay closed, completely calm and relaxed in his surroundings, with not a thought or care in the world that one of his servants could just walk in and find them both, sprawled out on the bed, naked.

Though, Grantaire can't find the strength to even think about taking the silk and spreading it over Enjolras' body, to protect his modesty should anyone walk in. He drinks his lover in instead; long, strong muscles underneath golden skin, a slight sheen spread over his body from the sweat that had gathered during their love-making. 

Grantaire's hand moves from his hair, trailing over the unlined forehead of the Demi-God, trailing down the bridge of his elegant, straight nose, before spreading over the plump, pink lips that are bitten red from trying not to scream too loud - Grantaire hadn't been too pleased about that, but understood the need. They were no longer alone in the forest, training to be heroes. They were back at Enjolras' castle - with Enjolras' parents.

Enjolras lips purse, pressing a kiss to the tip of his finger when they are touched, before his tongue comes out and flicks over the pad. Grantaire smiles down at him, and spreads the spit over his lips, watching as it makes them glow. 

'You leave for Troy tomorrow.' He murmurs softly, knowing that his words are going to burst the peaceful bubble they had encompassed themselves in for the past few hours. But he needs to speak these words, because this is Enjolras, this is the man he loves. 

And he is leaving for war tomorrow; leaving and it is uncertain whether he will even return… if Grantaire will ever see him again.

Enjolras' eyes open, stunning blue eyes that match the sea that surrounds them meet Grantaire's, and there's a hint of sadness in their depths.

'Yes.' He replies, unable to say anymore. He reaches up with his hand, long, perfect, lyre-playing fingers wrapping around Grantaire's neck and pulling him down, so he is a mere distance away from Enjolras' face. 'Will you follow me?' 

Grantaire's breath lodges in his throat and he studies Enjolras' face, trying to see if there's any hint of deceit there. Instead he just finds openness; honesty. He should know by now, Enjolras is blunt and honest to a fault. 

'To Troy?' 

Enjolras nods his head, slowly, surely. There's a slight shrug of his shoulders.

'To Troy; to Elysium; to Olympus or exile… will you follow me?' Enjolras questions and Grantaire feels floored by the intensity in his gaze; the honesty that he's expecting; the hurt he's preparing himself for. He has seen Enjolras at his most defeated, but even then, he has never looked quite like this.

Grantaire reaches and cups Enjolras' face, fingers tracing his defined features like a artist would as he sculpts a god from marble - reverently. He smiles a wide smile that makes Enjolras return it with more certainty in knowing what Grantaire's answer is going to be. 

'My love,' Grantaire whispers, voice little more than a breath, 'my beloved Enjolras, there is nowhere I wouldn't follow you. Perhaps it is possible that in another life I would refuse to follow, but most certainly not in this life.' 

Enjolras' smile widens impossibly further and Grantaire can't help himself. He leans in for another kiss, kissing with such force it is like a man finding water for the first time; as if he hadn't just spent the past three hours breathing the air that Enjolras exhaled. 

Grantaire pulls back and rests his head on Enjolras' chest, eyes drifting closed when Enjolras' fingers entwine in his hair and start to comb through it. 

And he is almost certain, that before he falls asleep in his lover's embrace, he hears Enjolras whisper, 'I'll follow you into the dark.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	16. Day Sixteen: Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this day:  
> cuddles  
> grantaire loves storms  
> grumpy enjolras  
> implied long distance relationship (if you look really hard)  
> enjolras stays in Florida (idek)

The room lights up with yet another flash of lightning. It throws white light around the room carelessly, disturbing its occupants, who had managed to find peace from the rain lashing against the window by lying on the couch, their arms wound tight around each other.

'It's still going on? What the actual fuck?' Grantaire mutters as he lifts his head from Enjolras' chest, eyes blinking blearily even though he still has the flash of white staining his vision. His eyes flutter more rapdily after a moment, trying to clear his gaze so he can turn to Enjolras and watch as he slowly stirs awake. 

'They last a while here in Florida. We don't do your five minutes, gone-in-a-flash storms here.'

Grantaire chuckles as he leans his chin on Enjolras' chest, gazing up at him with a crooked smirk on his lips. 

'Was that an intended pun?' He questions, watching as realisation flickers across his boyfriend's chest, as if his words have finally caught up with him. 'I'll take that as a no, then.' 

Enjolras huffs out a chuckle as he runs his hand through Grantaire's black locks, soothing the curls and making them fall more loosely into his gaze. Grantaire blows his hair out of his eyes a moment later with a tiny purr at the attention he's receiving, only to let his mouth fall open when the thunder comes a second later. It almost shakes the house; Grantaire thinks if it were any closer, the photos on the wall would have shaken and fallen off… sure, it was just thunder and not an earthquake, but Grantaire's imagination always got away from him.

'Holy shit, that was fucking _awesome_! He exclaims, pushing himself up so he is no longer sprawled out over Enjolras' chest, but straddling his lap instead. His hands brace themselves on Enjolras' chest as he looks around himself, his eyes flying straight to the window to see more of the storm that Enjolras had convinced him to ignore.

The rain lashes against the window, dribbling down the glass like veins or vines of a tree, and Grantaire can't help himself, he peels himself off of the couch and moves over to the window, sitting down on the windowsill and gazing out with wide, awestruck eyes.

'It's just thunder and lightning, Grantaire,' Enjolras calls from the couch, causing him to turn around instead of watching the storm outside. His boyfriend rolls over onto his stomach, lazily stretching out over the leather couch. 'I don't understand what's so fascinating.' 

Grantaire's mouth drops open, unable to comprehend what his boyfriend had just said. _Didn't… understand… what's so…_ ** _right!_** Grantaire stands from his perch on the windowsill and marches over to stand in front of Enjolras, who blinks owlishly up at him. 

Before he can even think about what Grantaire is going to do, his boyfriend grabs him around his waist and pulls him from his comfortable place on the couch. 

'Hey!' Enjolras shouts in protest but Grantaire doesn't stop. He marches them so they're both standing in front of the window, which is when Grantaire surreptitiously dumps Enjolras down onto the windowsill. He stands behind him and gently grabs his face, making sure that Enjolras' gaze is kept on the outside. 

'This is stupid.' Enjolras mutters as he folds his arms over his chest, gazing outside with a frown on his face. He doesn't understand Grantaire's love for storms; he just _doesn't_. Though saying that… he's not complaning about having Grantaire cup his face, his body pressed up against his back.

'No, it's not. Now watch, wait and shut up.' Grantaire retorts, keeping Enjolras' face forward, his breath a soft sigh against Enjolras' ear. He knows that if he has to make Enjolras wait longer than a minute, he'll wrestle himself free and sulk away to the couch again, so he hopes that what he's waiting for comes soon. 

After only waiting about fifteen seconds - with Enjolras huffing every single second - the flash lights up the room, and Grantaire allows himself a proud smile when he hears Enjolras' shuddering intake of breath. 

'Count.' 

'What?' Enjolras questions, craning his head when Grantaire moves his hands, sliding them down his face and neck until they're resting on his shoulders, kneading the muscles there. 

'Just… count.' Grantaire murmurs against Enjolras ear, smiling wider when Enjolras indulges his request and starts to count. 

He just gets to the number five when a loud, low rumble interupts him and Grantaire feels his body tense up underneath him. 

'Five miles away.' 

Enjolras turns, ready to tell Grantaire that it's stupid to assume that it's five miles away based on how many seconds past, but when he turns and sees the wide smile on Grantaire's face, the love in his eyes that flicker between the storm that is raging on outside and Enjolras, as if he cannot decide which sight he wants to study more, the words die in his mouth. 

'You're right… it is amazing.' Enjolras whispers, smiling to himself when Grantaire hums, because he has no idea that he wasn't talking about the storm… he was talking about Grantaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	17. Day Seventeen: Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this day:
> 
> understanding friends  
> developing relationship  
> time skips

**_One week before Valentine's._ **

Grantaire places the bottle on the table in front of him, before he cocks his head to the side. It takes only a brief moment of hesitation before he flicks his fingers against the neck of the bottle, watching as it wobbles on its bottom and then tips over, landing with a clang on its side. 

Enjolras stops his speech, rant, whatever you want to call it, to look up and see what the noise was. As does the rest of his friends. Grantaire just gives a small smile with a shrug, picking the bottle up only to do it again. Enjolras narrows his eyes in warning but continues speaking, starting from where he left off, so Grantaire realises it can't be that bad… or that Enjolras is a good mood today.

He doesn't get another bottle like he normally would; he's working on cutting back, and has - so far - managed it. Much to his own surprise. 

The Amis all say they knew he could do it… even Enjolras, when he first mentioned that he has been succeeding in the little plan that Joly had helped him write up. 

'Anything else to add?' Enjolras questions, such a standard question at the end of all the meetings that everyone begins to pack up, ready to head home. No-one really has anything to add, seeing as Enjolras does his research fairly well and most extras are usually given by Combeferre or Courfeyrac _during_ the meeting. Not right at the end. 

It's more like a formality.

Enjolras nods his head, realising that his friends are ready to go, if the fact they're all shrugging into their coats and talking amongst themselves is anything to go by. 

'Right. We'll meet again same time next week.' 

It's not a question, but a statement, but Marius' head perks up all the same and he squeaks out a, 'What?' 

'Next Tuesday is the next meeting, Pontmercy.' Enjolras declares, his back to Marius as he rolls his eyes. It wouldn't have made a difference if Marius could see him or not… caring about Marius' feelings is really the last thing on Enjolras' mind.

'But… that's Valentine's Day.' Marius explains, looking around himself for backup, and he surprises himself when more than just Courfeyrac jump to his aid - like it normally is.

'Shit, that's right.' Bossuet jumps in, running a hand over his head. 'I promised Musichetta and Joly that I'd take them to dinner. Made two reservations and everything.'

'Why the hell did you make _two_?' Grantaire asks with a frown and Bossuet grins down at him, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

'Because knowing my luck, something will happen to one of them. I'll say my name and they'll tell me there's no reservation. So, having two, well, that's just good sense.' 

'Ah.' Grantaire nods his head, an amused smile on his face. 

'And Courfeyrac and I have arrangements too.' Combeferre starts, giving a huff that he has to actually explain this and ruin everything. 

'What? No we don't.' 

'Yes we do. It's a surprise you idiot, so don't even _think_ about asking what it is.' Combeferre snaps, even though Courfeyrac's eyes light up like a child on Christmas Eve. He just hopes that the actual surprise gets the exact same reaction out of him.

Enjolras frowns to himself as he looks around the room. 'So… who _has_ plans for Valentine's?'

Grantaire, who had picked his bottle up and started spinning it around, lifts his head up at the question, scanning the room to find that everyone has their hands raised in the air. Wow. That's a first. There's normally just more than him and Enjolras being lonely at Valentine's. 

He frowns when he sees Jehan with his hand raised, and perks his eyebrow. 'What've you got planned Jehan?' 

'Nothing.' Jehan murmurs, but when he expects that everyone will start questioning him, he automatically continues, 'Well, this holiday, whilst it started as a romantic holiday, has been reduced to nothing more than sex. And seeing as I don't experience any sexual attraction, I've made a decision to protest it by doing nothing. It's like my way of getting back to society for over-sexualising things. So, whilst I suppose I could come in… I don't want to.' 

Grantaire purses his lips and nods his head. 'Fair do's.'

'So, we won't be meeting next Tuesday in that case?' 

'Not unless society changes by then, the restaurants burn down and their significant others fall sick.' Grantaire pipes in, not even letting the others get a chance to open their mouths to reply. 'What're you going to be doing, Enjolras?' 

Enjolras looks at Grantaire with wide eyes for a second, before he clears his throat, gaze briefly flickering away from Grantaire for a beat before he answers, 'Probably just going to come here and work on the notes for the next meeting.' 

'Well that sounds boring as hell.' Grantaire murmurs in reply, before he stands from his seat and stretches, giving a soft moan as he does so. He pulls the zip up on his green hoody before pulling the hood over his head. 'Anyway, I have a lovely appointment with Éponine tonight, so I'll see you all later.' 

He then turns and walks out of the Musain, not giving Enjolras the time to stop him and ask what he's got planned for Valentine's. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

**_Valentine's Day._ **

Grantaire isn't even sure what he's doing here. 

Well, that's a lie. He knows exactly why he's here. In fact, he's currently staring at the reason he's here. At the Musain. On Valentine's Day. 

But he still has no idea what even possessed him to _think_ about coming down here, let alone actually go through with it. 

Now it's too late, for Enjolras has noticed someone new in the back room of the Musain - either that or he just felt someone's gaze on him - and he's looking up, eyes meeting Grantaire's. 

'R? What're you doing here?' 

'Well, I told you your idea sounded boring, so I thought I'd come here and brighten your day!' Grantaire spreads his arms out on either side of him with a smirk. 'Or, y'know, make you regret ever telling me what your plans for today were.'

Enjolras straightens from whatever papers he had been studying whilst leaning over the table, and turns to Grantaire with a soft frown on his face. 

'I don't regret anything.' Enjolras murmurs in reply, his eyes flickering over Grantaire's body. He sees his green beanie tucked into the pocket of his leather jacket, and sees the hood of his jumper sticking out underneath that, but that's all the additional sights he sees. 

Normally, the first thing his eyes zone in on is the wine bottle that is normally attached to Grantaire's hand. But today there is no such thing. 

'I see your plan with Joly is going well.' Enjolras blurts out, gesturing for Grantaire to come further into the room and sit across from him. It takes only a brief moment of hesitation from the other man, before he walks over to the table and takes the closest seat. 

When Enjolras sits down across from him, he finally raises his eyebrow as he remembers just what Enjolras had said before. 

'What?' 

'Your… sobriety plan with Joly. It's working.' 

It's not a question or a polite enquiry, he genuinely means that and the realisation makes Grantaire's head spin. It's the exact same feeling he got when Enjolras was the first person to say "you can do it" when he and Joly finally declared what they had been working on together for the past few days. 

'Yeah, it's… sometimes it's hard, but my liver's thanking me already, so I guess I can't complain.' Grantaire grins, answering him even though he knows it wasn't a question. He just needs to say something. Otherwise he'll get up and runaway from the amount of belief that Enjolras seems to have in his ability to get sober… and stay sober. 

'That's good.' Enjolras nods, swallowing hard after a moment. 'I said you could do it.' 

Grantaire offers him a smile, his gaze flickering over to the papers that Enjolras had previously been studying and he rolls his eyes when he sees it is nothing more than another politician proving to be a power-hungry asshole. 

'Are you really dedicated to this?' Grantaire finds himself asking, gesturing to the papers spread out over the wooden table. 

Enjolras eyes study the papers for a moment before he turns back to Grantaire with a soft shrug. 'It depends on what I'd be giving it up for.' 

'Well… what about a film? Whilst sitting and watching you rant and rave can be incredibly fun, I think we owe it to Saint Valentine to at _least_ go to a movie together.' Grantaire's eyes widen as soon as the words are out of his mouth, because seriously, just what the hell is he thinking? 

Why on _earth_ would Enjolras want to-

'That sounds like fun.' 

-Go on a date with… wait _, what_?

'What did you just say?' Grantaire croaks out, eyes widening even further as he watches Enjolras stand from his seat, moving over to gather up his papers and slip them into his backpack. As soon as he has slung his backpack over his shoulder, he turns back to Grantaire with a raised eyebrow.

'I said I'd like to go watch a movie with you.' He declares, walking over until he's standing in front of Grantaire with a smile on his face. 'You ready to go?' 

Grantaire finds a smile slowly spread onto his face, before he nods his head. 

'Yeah… yeah I'm ready.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

**_Two weeks after Valentine's Day._ **

Grantaire arrives at the Musain earlier than he normally does; he has been doing so every meeting for the past two weeks. His reason was entirely justified in his mind, even if it meant suffering the weird temperature, as if Paris couldn't decide whether it wanted to be cold or warm. 

He gives a wave to Éponine, who only winks in return and Grantaire wants to bury his face in his hands. What was he even _thinking_ telling Éponine why he had been showing up early for Les Amis meetings? Now, she just used it as a reason to put that _glint_ in her gaze. 

'He's through the back room.' Éponine calls but Grantaire just gives her the middle finger over his shoulder, the sound of her laughter following him as he makes his way to the back room. 

The second he steps into the room, he's greeted by a flash of gold before he finds the door slammed shut behind him, and his back pressed up against it. Then there's lips on his and he melts against the wooden frame with a soft sigh. 

The kiss lasts only a second before Enjolras is pulling away, his hands finding Grantaire's as he drags him over to the table. 

'I take it you missed me?' Grantaire grins, stepping up behind Enjolras' back and placing his chin on his shoulder. Enjolras only nods his head and Grantaire playfully nips at Enjolras' ear. 'You only just left my flat two hours ago.' 

'Oh, _really_? So, that's where you were then?' 

Both Grantaire and Enjolras freeze, before they finally turn their heads, slowly moving so that they're staring at their friends that are standing at the threshold of the back room with mixed expression on their face; some wore smirks, some wore confused and surprised, others - namely Courfeyrac- looked absolutely ecstatic. 

When their eyes land on their friends, Courfeyrac speaks up once more after clearing his throat like the little shit he is. 'Care to explain?' 

Grantaire sputters, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He doesn't know what to say in reply, but he finds he doesn't have to when he feels Enjolras shrug beneath his hold. He never just _shrugs,_ Grantaire realises,he's going to say something. 

'Grantaire and I have been dating for the past two weeks.' Enjolras declares unashamedly, only pulling himself out of Grantaire's grasp so he can start flicking the papers out on the desk for his friends for when the meeting starts. When he's finished, he stops beside Grantaire again and takes his hand. 'We didn't tell you because we're still just seeing where this is going, and because it's not really relevant.' 

He finally lifts his gaze to his friends, his eyes fierce as they land on each one of them individually, before he turns to Grantaire, which is when his expression softens - and all of them notice it. 

'So, if we're done discussing personal lives right now, shall we sit down and start the meeting?' 

Grantaire half expects some sort of protest, a demand of more questions, but he should have known better because his friends are the best friends ever.

Instead they just nod their heads, some of them slipping back through to order their beverages for the meeting, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac come to Enjolras side to discuss some changes they've decided they need to make. 

It takes only a brief moment of hesitation, but then Grantaire presses a kiss to Enjolras cheek and slips to the back with Joly and Bossuet, who say nothing to him but just give him a nudge that says everything they needed to say. 

He sighs happily when Jehan hands him a coffee and a kiss to his forehead in greeting. 

_Yes. The best friends ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	18. Day Eighteen: In Formal Wear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this day:
> 
> fake relationship  
> kissing  
> parents are assholes  
> fancy rich-people's dances/balls

Enjolras scans the room briefly before his gaze lands on Grantaire, who is readjusting the collar of his white shirt. Enjolras frowns and does what comes naturally; he reaches across and grabs ahold of Grantaire's hand, tugging it away from his collar with a small, hopefully reassuring smile. 

'Sorry. I'm just not used to wearing this sort of thing.' Grantaire explains as Enjolras' thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of Grantaire's hand. Grantaire's gaze finds itself drawn to their entwined fingers and he swallows hard, his gaze flickering around the room to see if anyone is looking at them in disgust yet. 

However, no-one seems to have noticed them and their handholding just yet. 

'Believe me, Grantaire, it's fine. It's my fault for asking you to this damn thing anyway.' Enjolras sighs, and Grantaire knows if his free hand wasn't currently occupied with a champagne glass - entirely for show, of course, seeing as Enjolras doesn't even _drink_ alcohol - his hand would be scrubbing across his eyes right now. 

'You still haven't told me why you needed to come.' Grantaire prods lightly, his eyes returning to Enjolras' face, his blue eyes darting over every inch of his "boyfriend's" face. 

'Surely Combeferre or Courfeyrac told you.' Enjolras retorts and his gaze is drawn to their entwined hands once more. It's a nice sight, and he knows that if he keeps holding it, it means everyone will understand and automatically give them a wide berth. 

But it's not the only reason he continues to hold Grantaire's hand. Now he's got the artist's elegant fingers entwined with his, he doubts he'll be able to drop them now. 

Grantaire hums, reaching up with his free hand to pluck the champagne glass from Enjolras' hand. He thinks about taking a sip of the drink, but then he sees Enjolras' concerned and worried expression and he thinks better of it, instead opting to deposit it on a tray being carried by a waiter as they pass the couple. 

'Courf did, but I'd still rather hear it from you.' Grantaire explains as he turns back to Enjolras with a small smile on his lips. Four months sober. He's not going to spoil it now of all days; not when Enjolras needs him… not when he could potentially ruin everything for the man who he's grown closer to over the past months. 

Enjolras sighs, finally running his now free hand over his eyes, just like Grantaire knew he would. His nervous tics are very predictable, Grantaire realises. Whether they're just predictable to him is another thing entirely.

'They pay for my apartment; they pay for my tuition.' Enjolras admits slowly. 'I can get away with hiding behind my studies and work during semester, but this… _thing_ ,' he spits the word out like it's poison, 'is always hosted so I _can_ attend, and ugh… I needed to make it.' 

Grantaire purses his lips and nods his head. Yep. That's pretty much what Courfeyrac had told him. He also told him that his parents insist on a plus one being brought along, and usually it was Courfeyrac or Combeferre, but ever since they had gotten together, it would no longer work.

 _Our parents go on cruises together, R, they_ ** _talk_** _daily_ **.** _It wouldn't work._ Courfeyrac had explained when Grantaire asked why it wouldn't. 

Needless to say, he was the next best thing apparently.

'So, where is darling mummy and daddy then?' Grantaire questions, scanning the room for Enjolras' parents. He finds several people with bright yellow hair like Enjolras', but none of them have the same striking features and he guesses none of them can actually be his parents.

'They aren't here yet. They enjoy making an entrance, like how snotty royals do.' He sneers in disgust but before he can add anything else, the doors fly open and two elegant and beautiful people enter. 'Speak of the devil.'

'Well, didn't you get the good genes.' Grantaire murmurs as he studies Enjolras' parents. Both of them have yellow hair like Grantaire assumed, although Mr. Enjolras seems to be greying just a little bit if the lighter shade at his roots is anything to go by. He also has chiselled features and Grantaire realises that, thanks to his mother, Enjolras got the best of both worlds. The same structure as his father, but with a certain softness from his mother. 'Lucky bastard.'

Enjolras gives a brief chuckle that dies on his lips, and Grantaire feels Enjolras' hand tighten around his own as his parents start to make their way over to them. Sure, they talk to the people they pass, but there's no doubt in Grantaire's mind that they spotted their son and intended on making him their target anyway. 

As soon as they stop in front of them, Enjolras back is poker straight and Grantaire can't decide whether to continue holding his hand, or to pull it free so he can place a soothing hand on his back. 

He decides on keeping his hand entwined with Enjolras' in the end… even if it is just to let Enjolras use it as something to help release his tension.

'Son.' Enjolras' dad greets, holding out his hand for a shake. Unfortunately, that would mean letting go of Grantaire's hand, which seems pretty much impossible for him. So, Enjolras extends his free hand and levels his dad with a stare, waiting until his father sighs and changes his own hand so he can greet his son.

'And who's this?' 

Grantaire then feels three sets of eyes on him and he wants to crawl away. Thankfully, he's a master of skilling his face and body language into one of confidence, having had nearly twenty-four years of practice, and he gives Enjolras' parents a smile in return. 

'Mum, dad, this is Grantaire,' Enjolras starts up, his face lighting up every time his gaze lands on Grantaire. 'Grantaire, this is my mum and dad.' 

Grantaire smiles and extends his free hand for a shake, watching as his parents notice the hint of black paint on his wrists that just _wouldn't_ come off, no matter how hard he scrubbed. He forgot how much of a bitch oils were to work with. 

'Nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras.' He lies smoothly, not in the _least_ bit pleased or happy about this, seeing as their expressions have changed into nothing more than judgemental. And he's pretty sure that their gazes keep flickering towards their entwined hands, as if it's the devil itself.

Grantaire sighs in relief when they turn and walk away, using the "we need to circle, darling" excuse. His gaze flickers to Enjolras and he starts laughing, feeling pleased when the blond starts to join in. 

'It's gonna be a long night.' Grantaire explains. 'We best start laughing now.' 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Enjolras steps out of the cab a moment after Grantaire does, telling the cab driver to wait on him. He follows Grantaire until they're both standing at the door to Grantaire's building. 

'Thanks again, Grantaire.' Enjolras murmurs, a smile etched on his lips, and it was clear that it hadn't left his lips for hours. 

'Any time.' Grantaire replies with a grin to match Enjolras', and he swallows hard when he realises just how close Enjolras' face is to him. His eyes flicker away, because staring at Enjolras for too long has the same effects as staring at the sun, and they land on the suit that Enjolras is in. 'You really do suit the whole, formal-wear thing, though.' 

Pink seeps into Enjolras' cheeks and he clears his throat, gesturing to Grantaire who wears an emerald green tie that Enjolras has envisioned doing _sinful_ things with, ever since he first laid eyes upon it tied around Grantaire's neck. 

'So do you.' He whispers, even though he has no idea why he's whispering. But he's leaning in too, moving closer and closer to Grantaire until their lips are brushing in a soft kiss and Grantaire's hand snaps to Enjolras' hair, grabbing a fistful of blond curls in his elegant fingers. 

'I've wanted to do that all night.' Enjolras admits when they pull away, Grantaire's eyes wide and in awe at the words he just heard leave Enjolras' mouth. 

Grantaire can do nothing but nod his head. 'Yeah, me too.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	19. Day Nineteen: Spooning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this day:
> 
> r wants to sleep  
> e gets into a flame war  
> r intervenes

Grantaire huffs and throws his arm over his eyes, trying to block out the painfully bright light that's filling the room. He grits his teeth together and tries to ignore the constant _tap, tap,  click_ of fingers against a keyboard. It's impossible, of course, for the second he tries to ignore it, the louder it seems to get. 

He finally loses it and pulls his arm away from his face, a growl on his lips as he turns to glare at the man occupying the other side of the bed. 

'Enjolras, for the love of _god_ ,' he snaps, pushing himself up to a sitting position as he watches the blond blearily blink up at him, adjusting to his face after staring at the screen for so long, 'it's two o'clock in the _morning_. Turn the lights off, put the computer down and go the fuck to sleep!' 

'I'm in the middle of a heated discussion with this _idiot_. I can't stop now.' Enjolras retorts and Grantaire takes a deep breath in, before he moves. He reaches out with his hand and slams the laptop lid down, no longer caring if he happens to clip Enjolras' elegant fingers - in fact, when the man in question gives a hiss in pain, he allows himself a victorious smile. 

'Grantaire, what are you-' He's cut off when Grantaire sends him a glare, throwing away the covers as he slides out of bed with Enjolras' laptop in his hands. He marches through to the living room, depositing the laptop in the secret hiding place that Enjolras doesn't know about so he can't slip out later and retrieve it.

As soon as the laptop is hidden, he comes back through to the bedroom and finds Enjolras with his cellphone. 

'Put that damn thing away before I take it off you, and smash it into tiny pieces!' Grantaire snaps and there must be a look in his eyes, for Enjolras swallows and places his cell back onto the bedside table. Grantaire nods his head and then reaches out to the flick the light switch, plummeting the room into darkness which makes Grantaire sigh in pure and utter relief. 

'Thank fuck.' He murmurs as he pads over to the bed again, sliding into it and curling up on his side, eyes drifting shut in mere moments. 

He smirks when he feels an arm wind around his waist, but keeps the amusement out of his voice as he retorts, 'I'm still pissed at you.' 

Enjolras hums, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of Grantaire's ear, his hand tracing mindless patterns over Grantaire's stomach, making the other man sigh and melt against him. 

'I really am still pissed at you. I was supposed to be asleep four hours ago. I'm up in three hours to get things ready for my exhibit.' Grantaire murmurs, but there's no longer any pretend anger in his voice. He sighs when Enjolras' other hand comes up and starts carding through his hair. 

'I love you.' Grantaire breathes after a moment and Enjolras chuckles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

'I love you too.' Enjolras replies, slotting his legs behind Grantaire's and allowing his boyfriend's even breathing to lull him to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	20. Day Twenty: One Sided/Unrequited Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this day:
> 
> 2nd person  
> abusive relationship  
> (not)friends with benefits relationship  
> implied self harm  
> alcoholism

His breath is shallow on your cheek from where he lies on the bed behind you. Not an hour ago he had been pliant beneath you; gasping and moaning as he arched his back, pushing himself close to your touch. Now he's as far away as he can get, perched on the very edge of the double bed, hunched in on himself. 

He wants to be as far away from you as possible, you realise, and you're tempted to reach over and wrap your arms around him. He's asleep, surely he won't notice. You don't move. Of course you don't. The last time you were foolish enough to try and do that, he woke up and gave you a bloody nose. 

_Do not fool yourself, Grantaire. This is nothing more than a beneficial arrangement._

You have learnt your lesson ever since that day. It stings, of course it does. Every time you look at him it's like looking at the sun; you feel the desire to map out his body, you feel like your heart is going to explode. 

He does not look the same way at you.

He bloodies you and he hurts you. His face screws up in disguist and he is repulsed by you. 

Yet you stay. You take it all and you _stay_. You take the shoving and the wrestling when you take things too long, when your gaze has grown too soft for his liking. You take the grunts and groans and moans of everything except your name. You take the moment of blissful pleasure, where you can pretend that he's lying there because he wants too, not because he's too exhausted to move. And you take the look of hatred when he rolls off you and starts to get ready again… or he rolls as far away as he can because it is too late to walk home.

You stay and you take it all. 

It's obvious why he chooses you. You are the only one willing; you are the only one to take everything he has to give you, and be willing to no longer ask for anything else in return. 

Or, at the very least, wait until he leaves before you collapse onto the bed again, bury your face in the blankets and let it all out. You tug at your hair, you scream and shout and sometimes you find the temptation of the blade too good to refuse. 

The wine always helps. You drink it until you can no longer think straight; until the smell of it is all you can breathe - not the eathy smell of him. You leave the sheets tousled like he left them. You tend to pass out, sleep no longer coming naturally to you, and when you wake, your sheets are no longer smelling of him. They reek of your sweat and you wish you hadn't done a damn thing. 

Luckily, you know he will be coming to you that night as well. He always comes to you. Your sheets will smell of him again soon.

So you stay and you take it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	21. Day Twenty-One: Different Gender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this day:
> 
> non-binary r  
> hassle in bar  
> transphobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first time writing a trans character and i am so sorry if i fucked it up!! please let me know so i can change any mistakes accordingly

Grantaire tugs at the helm of their skirt, casting a nervous glance around the room, blue eyes scanning frantically around the club for any sign of _him_. They dig into the pockets of their jacket and fish out their phone, checking to see if they have any missed calls. 

They sigh when they see that they don't. 

They lose their patience and press the redial button, lifting the phone to their ear as they pull their jacket tighter around their body, obscuring the skirt and blouse from everyone's view. 

'Grantaire,' the voice on the other end of the phone sighs, almost as if he's thankful that they phoned… so that he didn't have to, 'I am so _sorry_ , but something came up and I…' 

Grantaire grinds their teeth together and shakes their head, even though they know the other person cannot see. 'Save it.' They snap, hanging up before they can hear his pathetic excuses. They sigh heavily and slip their phone back into their coat pocket, trying not to hurt that their cell doesn't buzz. That he doesn't try to call them again to explain. 

They bury their face in their hands with a groan. 

'Hey darling.' A voice whispers in their ear, and Grantaire jerks upright, moving away from the man with a gasp of shock. 'Can I buy a gorgeous girl like you a drink?'

Grantaire's face falls into a glare and their hands ball into fists, red fingernails digging into the palms of their hand.

'I ain't a girl.' They hiss, going to turn and stand up, ready to walk away from this douchebag, when his hand wraps around their wrist, stopping Grantaire from moving. 

'You're wearing a skirt.' 

'Still doesn't make me a girl, you asshole!' Grantaire snaps, yanking their hand free from his grasp. The man's face contorts into a glare, his lips curling back into a growl when he hears Grantaire's words; watches as Grantaire yanks their hand free from its confines. 

'Listen here you, freak-' The man snarls and Grantaire swallows hard, shrinking away from the man on instinct. They can remember the last time someone called them that… there had been a bloodied lip afterwards, as well as broken ribs. Luckily, Grantaire got out knowing the asshole ended up with that and more. 

But it still hasn't done anything to convince them that they can still deal with it. 

However, they do if they need to… and it's looking even more and more likely that they're going to defend themselves this time. 

But before the asshole can say anything, there's an arm around Grantaire's shoulders and they turn sharply, inhaling when they're greeted by a mane of golden hair, pleated into a loose French-braid that rests over the person's shoulder. 

'There you are! Sorry it took so long for me to get here,' the blond smiles down at Grantaire, teeth white and dazzling and _wow,_ 'do you wanna get a table?' 

They gaze down at Grantaire in question, and all Grantaire can do is nod their head, sliding off the stool and following the golden god's lead as they make their way to a small, secluded area of the club. It's only when they're completely alone does the arm lift from around Grantaire's shoulders. 

'I'm Enjolras, he/him pronouns.' He smiles down at Grantaire. 'Sorry about if I made you even more uncomfortable, but I was sitting with my friends and heard what that asshole was saying to you, and had to intervene. My friends thought I would've punched the guy but I saw how uncomfortable that made you and went for a better solution.' 

Grantaire is speechless by the time Enjolras is finished talking, blinking up at him with wide eyes. 

'Uh…' they reply eloquently, shaking their head once to try and organise their thoughts. 'Grantaire! My name. It's Grantaire!' They exclaim, cursing mentally at his idiocy. 'They/them. And thanks. Uh. Not more uncomfortable. I actually feel better.' 

Enjolras smiles at him again, nodding his head, apparently glad about that. 

'No problem. I'm glad. I'll let you get-' 

'Let me buy you a drink!' Grantaire blurts out when they realise that Enjolras is going to leave them. They're not ready for that just yet. 

'Don't feel you have to!' 

'No, no, of course not. I don't feel that. I want to because I want to, not because I feel I have to.' They answer honestly, hoping that it comes across. 

Apparently it does, for a smile spreads slowly across Enjolras' face, and he raises his hand to wave to his friends to let them know… Grantaire realises it must be a secret code or something. 

He then turns back to Grantaire, something settled in his expression and murmurs, 'I'll have a diet coke, then.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	22. Day Twenty-Two: Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enjolras is an idiot

Enjolras watches Grantaire disappear around the corner as he heads to the bathroom. He lets out the breath he hadn't even realised he was holding in a long exhale. His hand flies straight to the inside pocket of his jacket, feeling the hard box inside it with a sigh relief. He fishes it out and creaks it open, seeing the plain band inside, a smile flickering onto his lips as his fingertip traces over the ring. 

It is a band made of platinum on the underside, but the lower half of the band is wood, a strip of the platinum above that, and then an almost stone pattern on the upper strip. 

Enjolras had wanted to get a normal band at first; just a simple metal one, maybe with a diamond if it had been nice and elegant enough. But then he had spotted this. Everything about it just screamed Grantaire. It was different and unique, seeing as every one was handmade. It was a work of art, something Grantaire loved. 

It was more expensive, sure, but Grantaire… Grantaire was _worth_ it. 

He waves down the waiter and orders the finest bottle of champagne, telling him to hurry so that they're back before Grantaire is. The waiter returns with two glasses and fills them up, before disappearing after Enjolras smiles at him and gives him thanks. 

After a brief moment of hesitation, Enjolras plucks the ring from the box and slips it into Grantaire's glass of champagne, watching as it glimmers at the bottom of the flute glass. 

His eyes flicker back to the doors to the bathroom and finds Grantaire walking back over to him. His eyes widen and he stuffs the empty box back into his pocket, giving his boyfriend a smile when he sits back down, his eyes flickering straight to the bottle of champagne that sits on their table. 

'Oh, champagne. Someone's splashing out!' Grantaire greets, taking the glass in between his fingers. 

Enjolras' follows his suit and raises it to a toast, 'To us.' 

'To us.' Grantaire grins before he raises the glass to his lips, downing the contents of the glass in one go. 

Enjolras freezes. His eyes widen as his glass rests against his lips. He watches as Grantaire gives a cough, rubs his throat and refills his glass for another drink of champagne. 

He's about to take another sip when he finally catches sight of Enjolras expression. He frowns and lowers his glass, setting it on the table once more and looking around himself for any sign that would cause such a shocked expression to appear on his boyfriend's face. 

'What?' 

Enjolras swallows hard and silently reaches into his pocket, pulling out the small box that the ring had previously occupied. He sits it on the table without a word, and Grantaire's frown deepens. He reaches across the table after the briefest moment of hesitation and pulls the box towards him. 

After a deep breath in - because what else could this really be? - he flicks open the box only to find it… empty… _what_?

His eyes raise to Enjolras'. 'Is this is a cruel joke?' 

'I put it in the champagne.' Enjolras blurts out, eyes growing impossibly wider as he realises just what it meant - as his own words finally sink in. 'Oh my God. That was a stupid idea. I put it in the champagne and you just _swallowed_ it. Holy shit, Grantaire! Didn't you look in the glass?' 

'I don't take to looking in my glass before I drink it incase there's a ring in it! I mean, c'mon on Enjolras, how stupid can you… you were really gonna propose?' Grantaire finishes, the frown on his face disappearing into shock as everything finally seems to sink in. 

Enjolras put a _ring_ in his _glass_. He had every intention of… _holy shit_!

'Yes! And it was beautiful and it was just _you_ and you just _swallowed it_!' He snaps, throwing his hands in the air. 'Oh my God, we need to get you to the hospital!' He stands from his seat, panic rising in his body as he signals for the bill, giving the man the money when they come over. 

As soon as the food is paid, he rushes over to Grantaire's side and steers him from the restaurant so that he can take him to the hospital, and he purposefully ignores the way Grantaire's lips keep flickering in amusement. 

And when they finally get the ring out of Grantaire's body, Enjolras makes sure to send it to _three_ different places to be cleaned before he slips it onto Grantaire's finger to the shout of a yes, and a harsh kiss afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	23. Day Twenty-Three: Pregnancy/Adoption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enjolras is smitten by grantaire who is smitten by their daughter

Grantaire stares down at the bundle in his arms, a wide, silly smile spreading across his face. Enjolras has never seen him smile that wide before… well, that's a lie. It's a _rare_ smile, sure, seeing as he's only seen it twice in the entire time that he's known Grantaire - over twenty years.

The first time he saw it, it was on their wedding day, when he first lay eyes on Enjolras and it remained there as they exchanged vows, as they slipped rings onto one and other's hand, and Enjolras could taste the smile as he had his first kiss with his husband.

The second time was when they found out that a mother had said yes to them… that they were finally accepted and were getting a baby - the very baby that is now reclining in Grantaire's arms, that beautiful smile directed at the little girl who is fast asleep, missing the wonder. 

Though Enjolras knows that she won't be short of that sight. 

'Something tells me,' Enjolras murmurs as he steps up behind Grantaire, resting his chin on the shorter man's shoulder, gazing down at his… _daughter_ with a happy, fond, amazed smile on his face. He only continues when Grantaire gives a hum to let him know he's really listening to him, 'that if this little girl ever gets married, this smile will make another appearance.' 

'This is my normal smile.' Grantaire replies, finally drawing his gaze away from the baby to look at Enjolras with a fond expression on his face. The smile fades a little but Enjolras doesn't care; this is the smile that is equally as wonderful, and is only reserved for Enjolras himself.

'No. No it's not. Your normal smile is beautiful, just like everything else about you,' he presses a kiss to the corner of Grantaire's lips, 'but this one… it's brighter. It shines with happiness. You look like you think everything is perfect and right in the world.' Grantaire sends him a dubious look, and he gives a chuckle of laughter. 'Okay, right, well you look more like you could _make_ the world perfect and right if you had to show it that smile.' 

Grantaire rolls his eyes and leans down to press a kiss to his - _his! -_ baby girl's forehead. 

Enjolras give a chuckle, watching as the baby squirms and gives a happy smile and giggle, happily waking from her sleep in order to witness her father's love. 

'She needs a name, Grantaire.' Enjolras whispers softly, gazing down at his daughter with a fond smile on his face. Five years in the work for this moment, and it's here. Ten years with Grantaire and they were finally starting a family. 

Grantaire hums in reply, looking down at the bright blue eyes of the babe in his arms, the hand supporting her head carding through her startling blonde hair. 

'Irene. I like Irene.' He mumbles softly, more to himself than to Enjolras, but Enjolras hears him all the same, nodding his head. 

'Yeah,' he presses another kiss to Grantaire's cheek. 'I like Irene too.' 

And with the sight of his husband with their baby in his arms, he realises that every moment in his thirty-three years have brought him to this point, and for that he's glad. 

He wouldn't even think about changing a damn thing now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	24. Day Twenty-Four: Fantasy/Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> asoiaf crossover  
> bastard of the north R  
> lannister E  
> both who hate the realm anyway

Grantaire stares at the blond beside him from the corner of his eye. His blue gaze rakes over the stranger's body; the startling yellow hair that curls elegantly around a soft, regal face. Green eyes flicker around the room, briefly landing on Grantaire, who pretends he hadn't been looking by turning his attention to his glass.

That's when the man walks over to him with such elegance, the silk of his clothes shining in the rare Northern sun that shines in through the windows of the tavern. He sits down beside Grantaire and says nothing for a moment, he simply takes a long drink of the red wine from his glass, before he turns and finally faces Grantaire.

'My name is Enjolras.' 

'Of House Lannister?' Grantaire mumbles in question. Enjolras looks shocked by the quick deduction and Grantaire rolls his eyes. 'Not many people in the Seven Realms have a face as pretty as yours. Especially paired with hair that yellow and eyes that green.' Grantaire raises his own glass and takes a sip, sighing at the wash of wine in his mouth. 'Not to mention, you're wearing the finest silk in Westeros that only a Lannister could afford.' 

Grantaire turns his head and watches as the Lannister says nothing in return. He turns his head away, green eyes staring down at the blood-like liquid in his fine glass - the only difference is that it's not as thick. Surely a Lannister would know that though. _Hear me roar._

'I'm surprised you've made it this far North, Lannister.' 

'My name is _Enjolras_!' 

'Enjolras _Lannister_.' Grantaire amends, pointing his finger at him for the briefest of moments. He takes another swig of his wine, finding that he's not as pleased at the crestfallen expression on the young man's face as he normally would be. He drinks again. He doesn't want to think about that. 'But that does not change my earlier statement.' 

Enjolras sighs. 'You're not the only one who's surprised. I keep waiting for everyone to realise who I am and then stab me in the back.' 

'You killed our King. By stabbing him in the back, I may add. At his _uncle's wedding_. We're not the ones without honour here.' Grantaire shot back with more venom that he intended. He knows that Enjolras probably had nothing to do with the Red Wedding… but he was a Lannister by name and the North yearns to be stained red with Lannister blood - _any_ Lannister blood. 

'I tried to tell my Uncle his plans were foolish. It got me smacked and humiliated, and told to disappear before dawn otherwise I'd be killed in a "hunting" accident.' 

'So you ran to one of the places in the Seven Kingdoms where every one of its countrymen wants to kill you?' Grantaire snorts. 'That sounds like an amazing plan.' He goes to take another drink when a thought occurs to him. 'Though, saying that, I don't think there's anywhere _in_ the Seven Kingdoms that doesn't want Lannister's blood. The North, Dorne, the Reach, the Stormla-'

Enjolras grows impatient and cuts his ranting short with a curt, 'Who are you?' His jaw aches from being clenched so tightly.

'Grantaire.' 

'Of what House?' 

Grantaire purses his lips and downs the remainder of his drink. 'Of no House. Grantaire Snow. I'm just a bastard of the North.' 

He stands from his seat and refills his glass with a wink to the barmaid. Enjolras frowns at his back and thinks about prying on what House his father - or mother, but that seemed less likely - belonged to, but then he sees how taut the man's back is, how he's desperately trying to shield himself from the discussion; how he's trying to avoid the subject completely, and so Enjolras says nothing.

He bites his lip as Grantaire returns to sit beside him. He takes another sip of his own drink and settles his gaze on the dark-haired man again. 

'So, what's your intention?' Grantaire starts a moment later, after only the hint of hesitation. 'Join the Night's Watch to repent for your family's sins?' 

Enjolras shakes his head with a snort. 'No amount of Lannister Watchers could repent for my family's sins. No. I head for the Narrow Sea. I hear that Danaerys Targaryen survives and has dragons; I hear she has an army and is liberating the Free Cities. She is what this country needs. I'm going to the Bay of Seals for passage across the Narrow Sea.' 

'You're running the wrong way for the Narrow Sea.' Grantaire points out with a smirk that makes Enjolras unable to decide whether he wants to fight him, or embrace him.

'I'm going this way to throw the people who hunt me of my tracks; I have a band of people willing to follow me.' Grantaire makes a noise, as if he's going to say something in retaliation to that, so Enjolras rolls on, not even allowing him to say a damn thing in reply. He barely knows the man, but he can tell cynicism a mile off. 'Would you like to follow me, too?' 

Grantaire's head whips wildly around, eyes widening in shock at his question and he finds he can't speak; can't say yes or no, he just… stares at Enjolras, making him plough on. 

'You said it yourself, you're no-one. You're just a bastard in the North. Come with us and be _someone_. Watch the old world burn and a new one rise from the ashes.' 

'Aye.' Grantaire cuts him off, stopping him from opening his mouth and adding more. Grantaire had been convinced the moment he had been asked. Lannister or not… there was something about this man. The Old Gods and the New would even bow to this man. 'I'll follow you.' 

Enjolras eyes widen for a moment, before they soften and a dazzling smile spreads along plump lips. 

'You will?' 

Grantaire nods his head and a mirroring smile spreading across his own lips in reply. He can't believe he's doing this, he had always thought he'd live and die in the North… and yet here he is, willing to travel the Narrow Sea, chasing the ghost story of the last Targaryen, all in the whim of a Lannister. 

 _Stranger things have happened, Grantaire_. 

'I will.' He affirms, nodding his head again. 'After all, I've always wanted to see the Free Cities.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	25. Day Twenty-Five: In Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> major character death - both e and r  
> basically canon as hell with the exception that they fight right to the end.  
> but the exact same outcome :((

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites

The stench of blood - the rotting taste of iron - seeps in through his nose and rouses him from unconsciousness. He can't remember much about before. The march on Lamarque's funeral had been successful; they had rallied some support for their barricades. Then things went south. Fast. Éponine. Gavroche. He can remember fighting and then everything just went… _dark_. 

His eyes flutter and he looks around himself. There's blood everywhere, it's even seeped into the sleeve of his white - though it's closer to grey - shirt. He grimaces as he pulls himself into a sitting position, scrubbing his hand over his eyes to try and clear them of their bleariness. 

A strangled sound breaks free from his lips when he's greeted by the sight of Joly, lying on his back with blood oozing from his chest. He scrambles over to him, presses his hand against the wound whilst the other goes for his neck to check his pulse. He lets out a sob when he finds the skin beneath his fingertips is cold and still. 

He falls back onto his heels for a moment, but then thoughts of his other friends enter his mind and he's on his feet. He turns to the Musain, finding it dim inside, but there's still shouting coming from somewhere inside. He pushes to his feet and stumbles towards it, noting in his mind all the bodies that he passes. 

Bossuet. A soldier. Another soldier. Jehan. Feuilly. A soldier. Bahorel. Combeferre. Another soldier. Courfeyrac.

He passes them all. He stops each time to check for any signs of life, and feels more tears sting his eyes when he finds none. 

There's no sign of _him,_ however, and so he pushes on, following the sounds of commotion that brings him inside the Musain. He keeps moving until he finds him. 

He's standing with a dozen soldiers in front of him, each with their guns trained on him. He looks up at Grantaire when he stumbles into the room, and Grantaire knows it's just his imagination when he sees his lips twitch. 

He pushes his way through the throng of guards, surprised when they move out of the way for him to come to his leader. _Probably relishing. Two birds, one stone._ He stops in front of Enjolras and extends his hand. 

'Enjolras,' Grantaire breathes, his fingers twitching as he expects Enjolras to reject him immediately. To turn him away with a sneer about how he did not believe; but he _did_. He told him. He believed in him.

Instead, Enjolras hand reaches for his and his fingers wrap through the gaps his create. He tugs Grantaire to his side, free hand tightening its hold on the French flag that his fingers are wrapped around. 

'Are we going to stand and die?' Grantaire questions after a beat, when he sees the men in front of them - the soldiers - ready their guns, bringing them down to point at them once again. 

'I am not going down without a fight, my friend.' Enjolras declares and Grantaire's heart soars. _My friend_. His hand tightens around Enjolras as blue eyes study the fierce features of his beloved Enjolras. He looks strong; he looks positively regal; fearsome. He truly is Apollo. 

'Neither am I.' Grantaire returns, watching as Enjolras sends him a wink and then wrenches his hand from Grantaire's grasp. He shouts aloud and startles the men, giving him enough of a chance to pull a gun from one, breaking his nose with the butt of the rifle. 

Grantaire moves and copies his plan, stealing another gun and shooting it at someone who goes to attack Enjolras. The blond turns and gives him a wink. He shoots another man that is coming towards him and Grantaire almost thinks that they can do this.

If any of the Amis de l'ABC could win this revolution, it was Enjolras and he was going to do it. 

Then another shot comes from neither Grantaire's or Enjolras' stolen gun. Grantaire hears a shout of pain and witnesses the crisp white shirt that Enjolras wears turn red. 

'No!'

The word breaks out of his mouth with a sob and he lets the gun fall. He rushes over and grabs Enjolras, watching as the man who made him _believe_ starts to fall in on himself; who is losing the power and strength to stay upright.

'Enjolras.' He whispers, and the blond smiles at him. Blood seeps through his teeth but his smile is still bright and dazzling. Grantaire chokes on another sob. 

'I can hear the people sing.' Enjolras murmurs in return, then the darkness washes over his eyes and Grantaire shouts, lets the weight of Enjolras' body overcome him until he's cradling his body on the ground. 

'Do you surrender?' 

Grantaire's lips curl into a snarl and his hands tighten around Enjolras' body. 

'Never.' His eyes flicker back down to Enjolras, who looks calm and quiet and _happy_. He turns back to the guards. 'Long live the revolution!' 

He turns to stare at Enjolras and doesn't wince or shout when the bullets pierce his skin, for he can see Enjolras, alive and well, extending his hand towards him with another dazzling smile. 

 _Come and hear the people sing._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m on [tumblr](http://runningwithshewolves.tumblr.com) and [facebook](https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lottielovebuzzs-Fanfiction/154475354679423)! come and say hi!!


	26. Day Twenty-Six: Royalty AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enjolras' father is a douche  
> prince e  
> squire r  
> to get your throne you have to marry  
> homophobia

Enjolras hands are clenched into fists behind his back. He's always the same when it comes to these walks with his father. They don't happen that often, for that he is thankful, but when they do? He can never quite hold himself back. 

He blows a curl away from his face, turning his attention back to his father with a forced smile. From the corner of his eyes, he can see their squires walking ten steps behind them. It's close enough that they're there if required, but far enough away that they can't hear anything that's said. 

Enjolras wishes they were closer. It's always so strange having Grantaire walk so far away. 

'You come of age next week, my son.' His father declares, drawing Enjolras' thoughts away from his squire. 'I am old and the country needs a new king.' 

Enjolras says nothing, only hums and nods to let his father know he's truly listening. 

'Unfortunately, you know the law of our land. You must wed before you can take your place upon the throne.' He sends a sideway glance to his son. 'I have not seen you interested in any of the fair maids that we have in this country. There is Lady Cosette-'

'Who is in love with Lord Marius Pontmercy, father. Their engagement has not been announced due to the illness of Lord Valjean, father. But they _are_ betrothed.' Enjolras declares, glad that Grantaire is walking so far away and cannot hear the conversation. 'I view Cosette more as a sister, anyway.' 

'What about Lady Éponine?' 

'I…' he trails off meekly. He realises he doesn't even know whether Éponine is available or not. He swallows when he sees the glint in his father's eyes. He turns his head, stopping in his tracks. 'Grantaire!' He calls loudly, watching as his squire's head jerks to attention.A slow smile spreads across his lips. He then seems to remember himself and skills it to perfect nonchalance. 

He jogs until he's beside Enjolras. 'My prince?' 

'Éponine Thénardier, you are close to her?' 

'She's like my sister, my prince.' 

'Is she betrothed to another, boy? Or is she available for my son?' Enjolras' father cuts in, ending his question with a harsh pat on Enjolras' back. 

Grantaire's eyes widen and his head flies to Enjolras, who tries to explain everything in his gaze. But then his father is barking at him to hurry up and answer, and Grantaire turns back to the king. 

'Unfortunately not, your grace. She had a small marriage to Montparnasse a fortnight ago.' Grantaire explains, his gaze moving back over to Enjolras . There's nothing but questions in his gaze. 

When Enjolras notices that his father plans to start listing more ladies, panic rises in his stomach. He takes a deep breath in and calls to his father to gather his attention 

'I already know who I want to marry, father, to take  my pace on the throne.' Enjolras speaks up, watching as his father's face contorts into confusion. A smile spreads across his face and Enjolras winces to himself. _That won't stay there long._

'Oh? Who is it, my son?' 

Enjolras bites his lip and takes the plunge. He grabs ahold of Grantaire's hand and thread their fingers together. He ignores the shocked gasp that breaks free from Grantaire's lips.

'Grantaire. There's no-one else I love more and I do not wish to marry anyone except him.' 

He is pretty sure that his father's head is going to explode as his eyes widen, his mouth contorting into a thin line. He shakes his head once, and that's all that Enjolras needs to know this isn't going to happen without a fight.

' _He_ is a _squire_.' His father sneers, his voice low and full of venom. 'You will _not_ marry him. Do I make myself clear? The law states that to receive your crown, you need to marry a _woman_ of _nobility_.' 

'Where in the law does it say that?' 

'Do not try my patience. Go back to your room this is instant, and I will let your _squire_ keep his head!' His father snarls, sending a vicious glare to Grantaire, who swallows hard and tugs his hand free. 

Before Enjolras can say anything to him, his father grabs ahold of his upper arm and drags him away.

He doesn't even get to look back to say " _I'm sorry_ "to Grantaire. 

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Enjolras raises the lantern in front of him, to make sure he is going down the right passage. He's walked the halls for years, yet it still feels like they change position at night.

He finds himself at the library, moving to where all the royal documents are kept. He finds the document he is looking for and sits down. The candles highlight the words as he spreads the parchment over the table.

'He's _got_ to be lying.' He murmurs to himself, before he starts to read, resigning himself to a long night.

_~oOoOoOoOoOo~_

Enjolras clears his throat when everyone is finally in the room. Their confused gazes flicker between himself and his father.

'My council, you will no doubt be wondering why I have summoned you here today.' He starts, his eyes land on Grantaire who looks unsure about being there. 'My coming of age is upon me, and to receive my throne, law decrees I have to marry first. And I am here to announce that I have finally chosen the person I wish to spend the rest of my life with.' 

The crowd murmurs to themselves. Enjolras' eyes land on Grantaire again, and he finds his expression crestfallen. All he wants to do is comfort him and explain everything, but he knows that will have to wait. He has to explain himself to his father and his council first. 

'But before I announce their name, I am here to inform you of the lie my own father has told me.' There's more murmurs. His father's eyes narrow at him in warning. He doesn't pay attention. 'He informed me that marriage, in law, is between a man and a woman. That written down on our decrees is noble man can only marry noble woman; low borns can only marry low borns. This is the lie my father has told me. 

'I spent all of last night reading the decrees and nowhere did it say these words. We have been labouring under this fall pretence, and I am here to put an end to it.' He swallows hard and turns to Grantaire, smiling widely as he calls his name. 

Grantaire looks shocked and a little hesitant, but ascends the steps to where Enjolras stands. He slides his hand into Enjolras' proffered one when he reaches him. 

'Grantaire has been my squire since he was old enough to be one, and I was old enough to need one. And I love him. He is the man I am going to marry. Not to receive my throne, but because I _want_ to - because I love him.' He turns his attention away from his beloved for a moment. His eyes flicker around the room with a growing smirk. 'I just thought I'd let you know.' 

He then leans down and captures Grantaire's lips in his. He choses to ignore the shouts from his father. 

He never cared what the king had to say anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	27. Day Twenty-Seven: Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comforting hugs  
> r dreams e is gonna leave him  
> this one sucks lbh

_His heart is racing and his teeth are chattering. Grantaire's breath is harsh and heavy, he can see it in the air as he breathes out. It curls upwards with a spiral. Normally, he'd consider looking upwards and admiring its beauty._

_Instead, he just keeps pressing onwards. His legs are weak and feel ready to break with his next step. But he keeps pushing himself forward, he's got to keep going._

_'Enjolras!' He shouts, reaching up to rub away the tears that are dripping down his face. The snot and the dirt come away as well. He swallows hard and stops dead. He turns his head to the side. He sees a glimpse of gold and he calls Enjolras name again, watching as the owner of the golden halo of hair turns sharply. The gold then starts to run towards him._

_'Grantaire!' He hears in reply, and his heart soars. God. He picks up his feet and rushes over to him, collapsing into the man's arms the second he can._

_They find themselves on the ground. Grantaire lets out a breathless laugh, happy that he's finally got Enjolras in his arms again. He sobs loudly and buries his head in the crook of Enjolras' neck, pressing a kiss there._

_'Enjolras, Enjolras,' he murmurs over and over again. His hands just tightening around Enjolras' slim body until he feels that Enjolras isn't going anywhere._

_He finally pulls away to look at Enjolras, the widest smile on his face. His hand comes up to cup his cheek._

_'Where are we?'_

_There's no answer and it's then Grantaire realises that Enjolras' arms aren't around him. He stares at his boyfriend, only to find blue eyes staring  back at him._

_'Enjolras.' He tries but he gets no answer. He pulls away and gives Enjolras another shake._

_'Enjolras.'_

_Still no answer._

_'No. No. No. Enjolras.'_

There's a small shove to his shoulder. 

_'Enjolras. Please.'_

'Grantaire.' 

There's another shove at his shoulder and Grantaire bolts awake with a shout. His eyes flicker around the room, Enjolras' name on his lips as he reaches for the warm body beside him. 

'What was it?' Enjolras questions, seeking Grantaire and wrapping his arms around his body. His hand cups the back of his head, fingers combing through his dark curls.

Grantaire shakes his head and only tightens his hold on Enjolras. He knows that he should explain but he can't make his mouth work right now. He just clings tightly to Enjolras. 

'Don't leave me.' He breathes out after god knows how long. It doesn't even explain the dream, the nightmare. He knows that it will just confuse Enjolras even more, but it's all he can say. 'Don't leave me, again.' 

Enjolras presses a fierce kiss to Grantaire's forehead, not even bothering to question the 'again'. 

'I'm not going anywhere, my love,' Enjolras sighs, holding him tighter. 'I'm not going anywhere.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	28. Day Twenty-Eight: Singing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> songfic  
> r can sing  
> e realises his feelings  
> listen to the song mentioned - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZNH0sBmbRI&oref=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DMZNH0sBmbRI&has_verified=1

Courfeyrac steps onto the stage and silences the large crowd within a minute. As soon as he has everyone's attention, he smiles widely. 

'Now, as many of you know, Les Amis de l'ABC has ten official members, as well as countless _unofficial_ members. And one of our members is a struggling musician, artist, writer, whatever-else-hell there is. So, because there's so many of you, he's here to provide us some entertainment!' He sends a grin to the side of the stage. He doesn't continue until the dark-haired man gives him a roll of his eyes. 'So, put your hands together and apart and then together again, and welcome Grantaire to the stage!' 

Grantaire readjusts the guitar strung around his shoulder and steps onto the stage. He smiles to the crowd when they follow Courfeyrac's instructions and cheer him to the stage. 

He steps up to the mic, 'Okay, so I'm Grantaire, R, whatever. This song, if you don't know it, is Slash's "World on Fire". Every time I hear it… it makes me think of Les Amis, especially our fearless leader.' He swallows hard and purposefully ignores the way Enjolras' head perks up at that. 

'So, here we go.' He strums his guitar to the opening beat.

 ******_Well, they say that we are tragic,_**  
**_And they say we're born to lose,_**  
**_You're the misfit, I'm the sinner,_**  
**_You're the heathen, I'm the fool,_**  
**_But, today, you'll be the master or the slave,_**  
**_It's up to you,_**  
**_Oh my beautiful disaster,  
_ _Take me any way you choose._**

Enjolras stares out to the crowd who all, apparently, know the song and are singing and dancing to it. He watches as they shout for Grantaire who sings into the microphone. His lips are pressed against it with an everlasting smile on them.

'They love him!' He exclaims. He's not sure why he's so surprised. He's witnessed Grantaire sing before, but it's never been to a crowd of thousands. At one of their rallies. With a song that apparently reminds him of Enjolras. 

'Grantaire knows how to work a crowd.' Bossuet chips in, turning his head to Joly before they share a chuckle together. 

 ******_Don't fight it,_**  
**_Ignite it,  
_ _This much I'm sure._**

'He's amazing!' Enjolras gushes after a moment, trying to ignore the fact that Grantaire hasn't reached the chorus yet. He can feel his friend's gazes on his back, can even hear Bossuet and Joly snigger once again. He wants to ask what their little secret is, but knows better.

They love Grantaire. And if it's a secret to do with Grantaire, he has no way of getting it out of Bossuet or Joly's mouth. 

 ******_I think it's time to set this world on fire,_**  
**_I think it's time to push it to the edge,_**  
**_Burn it to the ground and trip the wire,  
_ _It may never be this good again._**

'That's you just realising that, Enjolras?' Courfeyrac jumps in, casually throwing his arm around his friend's shoulders. He wears a grin on his lips that Enjolras knows means nothing but trouble. 

'I know he's good! I just… he looks at home up there.' Enjolras murmurs in reply, and instead of chuckling and giggling this time, Joly and Bossuet just scoff. 

Enjolras turns to them with raised eyebrows, which makes them snigger once more. 

Thankfully, Joly decides to finally answers him. 'Trust me. Grantaire is not at home up there, E.' 

 ******_It's like a new religion,_**  
**_Speak in tongues, come see the light,_**  
**_Do not trip on inhibitions that will only waste my time,_**  
**_Let me tempt you with the evils of the flesh and so much more,_**  
**_Like a Babylon redeemer,  
_ _Like a pusher, like a whore._**

Enjolras frowns at Joly and Bossuet, who allow themselves another chuckle. 

However, Musichetta chooses that moment to appear, slipping an arm through each of Joly and Bossuet's. She then presses a soft kiss to their cheeks, smearing her lipstick. 

'Are they teasing you?' She questions, sending a small glare at both of her boyfriends. 'They're both a pain in my ass.' 

They then go to turn, heading to another part of the event, but Enjolras stops them. He still hasn't go an answer to his question. 

'What did you mean?' 

 ******_Just try it,_**  
**_You'll like it,  
_ _I'll give you more..._**

Joly and Bossuet turn back to him with a glint in their eyes that makes him swallow hard. 

'You're watching him, Enjolras. He's not going to be one-hundred-percent comfortable with that.' Joly questions, and Enjolras can only stare at him. 

His gaze flickers over to Grantaire, who still looks perfectly at ease. 

Now he knows that Grantaire isn't exactly as comfortable as he appears, however, Enjolras _can_ see a tightness to his back and shoulders. 

What has that got to do with Enjolras, though?

 ******_I think it's time to set this world on fire,_**  
**_I think it's time to push it to the edge,_**  
**_Burn it to the ground and trip the wire,  
_ _It may never be this good again._**

'That doesn't make sense! What did I do?' Enjolras questions. Joly only rolls his eyes as Courfeyrac's laughter seeps in through his ears. 

'That is such a stupid question, E!' Courfeyrac declares at the same time Joly murmurs, 'You think about that.' 

They both then turn and leave Enjolras alone at the side of the stage. He frowns to himself before he turns back to watch Grantaire. He tries to think why it's him that's making Grantaire uncomfortable. But he can't think of anything. Enjolras is nowhere near him. 

And this song is dedicated to _him_. If he didn't want Enjolras there… why dedicate a song to him?

 ******_It's so dark, I can't see,_**  
**_All the truth inside us,  
_ _All I want is to feel something that's real before the end..._**

Grantaire pulls away from the mic and allows the guitar solo to fill the air. Enjolras finds he cannot keep his gaze away from Grantaire's fingers as they pluck away at strings on his guitar.

 ******_Close the door,_**  
**_Turn the key,  
_ _Do you like what you see?_**

Enjolras feels his cheek heat up when Grantaire's eyes flicker over to him with his last line, a teasing smirk on his lips. 

It hits him then that he's always teasing. Always teasing and Enjolras realises, that he's always teasing right back. 

He meets Grantaire's gaze and sends him a wink, watching with pleasure as Grantaire misses his cue. He falls into the next line a little later than he should have, but no-one seems to notice.

 ******_Kill the lights,_**  
**_Oh, come to me,_**  
**_Set it off tonight,  
_ _Baby, just like fire and gasoline..._**

Enjolras breath is lodged in his throat, his eyes blown wide. The note that Grantaire just hit… his technique. The way he enraptures the crowd. 

Everything seems to make sense all of a sudden. He seems to realise the closeness between them now; seems to acknowledge the teasing between them. 

He loves Grantaire - he's always known that. But it's not the love he has for Combeferre or Joly or Jehan. It's a different love. 

 ******_I think it's time to set this world on fire,_**  
**_I think it's time to push it to the edge,_**  
**_Burn it to the ground and trip the wire,  
_ _It may never be this good again._**

Enjolras takes a step towards the stage, but does not stand take the step onto it. 

Instead, he lingers, watching as Grantaire captivates the crowd once again. Though Enjolras reckons he never lost their attention to begin with. Maybe it's just Grantaire's attention that has shifted. Instead of being focused entirely on the crowd in front of him, his gaze now flickers back and forth to Enjolras, as if judging what he's going to do - what he's really thinking. 

It's not the crowd that's distracted. 

It's Grantaire.

 ******_Just trip the wire,_**  
**_This world's on fire,_**  
**_Just trip the wire.  
_ _It may never be this good again..._**

Grantaire ends the song to the sound of rapid applause. The clapping and cheers only gets louder when Enjolras steps onto the stage, moving to stand beside Grantaire. 

Grantaire waves to the crowd and turns to face Enjolras, only to be greeted with a wide smile. 

He steps forward, and whispers, 'Can I kiss you?' 

And Grantaire can only nod, the sounds of the crowd's cheers filling the air as Enjolras presses his lips to Grantaire's in a fierce kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	29. Day Twenty-Nine: Meeting Each Other's Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> their parents suck  
> they've got each other and friends - les amis are their family

Grantaire's hand gives Enjolras' a reassuring squeeze. He turns his head slightly, just so he can offer Enjolras a reassuring glance. His boyfriend squeezes his hand in return, letting him know that he saw and appreciated it. But Grantaire knows it didn't help. 

He sighs. Why on _earth_ did they think this was a good idea? 

His eyes flicker away from Enjolras and instead around the table. His parents sit out of place in the fancy restaurant. Sure, they're wearing their best clothes, but that's not much. It's not even their clothing that makes them stick out like a sore thumb. It's the way they _act_. 

His father keeps glaring at him and Enjolras, especially at the spot under the table where their hidden hands rest. His mother just sits there and doesn't say a word. 

It's a sharp contrast to Enjolras' parents, who look like they're ready to meet the president, not just have a meal at a _sort-of_ fancy restaurant. 

As Grantaire's eyes flicker around the table, he realises that no-one has spoken in over five minutes. He's starting to regret blowing off movie night with the Amis for this… what the hell was he thinking? Enjolras was all set for just not showing up, but Grantaire insisted. He hadn't seen his mum in _ages_ and he just wanted to see her kind face again. 

He didn't think that his father would actually show up, so when he did, well, that shocked him to the core. He tried his hardest not to flinch when his father embraced him - tried even harder not to let it show when his father snarled " _you and your faggot boyfriend better not embarrass us"_ into his ear. 

He wants to scoff. Of course. It _would_ be him and Enjolras that would do the embarrassing. It wouldn't be the parents who can't love their children for what they are. 

'How is university going?' Enjolras' father questions, his eyes locking onto his son's and not looking away. Enjolras' hand tightens its hold on Grantaire's. 

'It's going fine.' Enjolras nods. 'I was struggling with my classics class, but Grantaire helped me pass.' 

Grantaire swallows when the words of praise brings everyone's attention onto him. He offers them all a smile before reaching for the water. His hand squeezes Enjolras' to stop himself from wrenching it free, so that he can flag down the waiter for a bottle of wine. To keep to himself. 

In return, Enjolras squeezes his hand four times and Grantaire chuckles to himself. _Four months sober_. 

'He always loved classics.' Grantaire's mother chips in, sending a soft smile to her son. 'If he weren't covering himself in paint, he'd be face first into a book.' 

'What course are you doing again?' Enjolras' father questions, and Grantaire can see Enjolras' jaw clench. Grantaire sweeps a thumb over Enjolras' knuckles and offers Enjolras' father a smile.

'Fine art.' Grantaire answers shortly, 'with a side-course in animation.' 

'What do you plan on doing after you get your degree?' 

 _And there it is._ Grantaire opens his mouth to answer but Enjolras beats him to it. 'Open a gallery. Paint. Do nothing. What the fuck does it matter to you?' 

Grantaire turns to look at Enjolras. He bites his lip when he sees the narrowed eyes and the snarl on his lips. It's been so long since that look was directed at him; so long since he and Enjolras were always at each other's throats. It's been so long, he's forgotten how terrifying the man can be. 

'I just want to make sure that you're not… going to be supporting a lost cause.' 

Grantaire swallows hard and turns his gaze away. He finds his mother's gaze. She looks like she wants to snap at Enjolras' father and then comfort Grantaire, and he wonders why she hasn't. But then he sees the hand that his father has on her, and realises why she hasn't said a thing. 

'My son is a lost cause. Has been for quite some time.' 

'Okay that is _enough_!' Enjolras snaps, his hand now painfully tight around Grantaire's, but it's not sore. It's still reassuring. 'I don't give a _damn_ if I end up supporting him because he doesn't work - I don't give a fuck if you cut me off because I _am_ supporting him. We'll survive in our own way, we always do!' 

He stands from his seat, pulling Grantaire with him who is thankful to be leaving now. He'll have to try and meet up with his mother in private some time. 

Just before Enjolras turns to leave, his eyes lower to Grantaire's father's level. 'Your son is _not_ a lost cause. You're just a stubborn old bastard who can't see past your own stupidity.' 

Then they turn and march out, not even paying attention to the roaring coming from both of their fathers.

They're too busy in their own heads that they don't say anything until they're in the cab, on their way home. 

'I can't believe you cold my dad a stubborn old bastard.' Grantaire muses with a smile. He reaches across and presses a kiss to Enjolras' forehead. 'You're awesome.' 

'Well, I wasn't going to sit there and let them put you down like that. They just don't see how amazing you are.' Enjolras replies, pressing a kiss to Grantaire's lips. It's soft and brief, but as reassuring as their entwined hands had been during dinner. 

He pulls away and shrugs, resting his head against Grantaire's shoulder with a soft sigh. 

'It's their loss anyway.' He declares, and all Grantaire can do is press a kiss to his curls and wrap an arm around his shoulders, holding back the tears of happiness that are stinging his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	30. Day Thirty: NSFW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bottomjorlas  
> top r  
> e riding r

Enjolras' hands are a steady pressure on his chest. It's heavy and stops him from sitting up; from moving so that Enjolras is beneath him and he can fuck him at the pace he _really_ wants. 

Instead, he's pinned to the bed with Enjolras above him, sinking down onto his cock slowly. Steadily. It's nothing like Grantaire wants, even though it _is_ pleasurable. How can it not be? Enjolras is tight and warm around his cock, and the sight of him is enough to make him fall apart. 

He's naked. Completely and utterly naked, having taken the time to completely strip this time. He had prepped himself with his fingers and Grantaire's half-empty bottle of lube, before he sunk down onto Grantaire's cock. His body is flushed and covered in a thin film of sweat. His skin is soft and warm under Grantaire's fingers. The only touch he has on his boyfriend is his hands resting on Enjolras' hips. 

'Can't you go a _bit_ faster, for fuck's sake?' Grantaire snaps as Enjolras sinks down onto him again, almost at a punishing pace. Is that what this is? Is he being punished for something he did or said? He can't even remember if he said something that pissed Enjolras off. 

'Shut up, I'm enjoying this.' Enjolras replies, rolling his hips in a way that makes Grantaire's hands tighten their hold on his hips. His eyes flutter shut and he lets out a sigh. 'And so are you, don't try and deny it.' 

Grantaire groans and he lifts his head so he can look at Enjolras better. 

'Of course I'm enjoying it! It's _you_ that's riding me.' He grinds his teeth together when Enjolras snaps his hips forward. A move meant to _tease_. 'But what I'd _really_ enjoy… is having you beneath me, fucking you hard and fast.' 

Enjolras stops moving altogether. Grantaire lets out another groan, this time in annoyance, not pleasure. He gazes down at Grantaire, lying beneath him with an adorable pout on his lips. He can't help himself, he leans down and captures Grantaire's lips with his own. 

'Oh, so _that's_ what you want?' Enjolras murmurs against his lips, his hips moving a little faster this time. He doesn't move away from his place lying over Grantaire's chest. He takes Grantaire's hands from his hips and laces their fingers together. He then moves their hands so that they're are trapped on either side of Grantaire's head. 'To _fuck_ me hard and fast?' 

He whispers the word into the crook of Grantaire's neck, smirking to himself when his boyfriend's breath hitches. His exhale is nothing more than a fluttering sigh.

'Yeah.' Grantaire breathes in reply, his hands tightening around Enjolras' as he starts to move again. Enjolras' hips jerk faster and faster, slamming himself down onto Grantaire's cock with a stream of groans and moans. 

Enjolras groans low and long, pushing himself upwards so he move even faster. 

'No, you were right,' he moans, his mouth falling open and his body shaking. 'This is much better. Fuck.' 

'Told you.' Grantaire grins as he wrenches one hand out of Enjolras' hold so he can wrap around it Enjolras' cock. He matches his strokes to the thrust of Enjolras' hips, smiling when Enjolras lets out a slew of curse words.  He comes apart a moment later, painting Grantaire's fist and stomach with white, hot, sticky come. 

Enjolras collapses onto Grantaire's chest, ignoring the wetness that smears onto his chest. He is boneless and pliant as Grantaire continues to drive himself into Enjolras. He puts a hand on his hips to bring Enjolras down onto him again and again.

'Fuck. Shit. Enjolras… I'm gonna…' Grantaire throws his head back when he comes, arching up into Enjolras who is still draped over his body. A boneless heap. 

'I have no idea why people say slow sex is the best.' Enjolras murmurs into Grantaire's throat. 'Fuck me hard and fast any day.' 

'Remember that the next time I recommend it, then.' Grantaire laughs, wrapping his arms around Enjolras' body. He knows they need to get up and get cleaned at some point, but for now, he's content to just lie here like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


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